Mastering the Magic of Life
by Triskell
Summary: CATS: How Quaxo became Mistoffelees -- the story of a life. Strong emotional turmoil.
1. Part I

Author: Triskell  
Summary: Misto's life story...  
Rating: PG-15, some scenes are bordering on (emotional turmoil)  
Disclaimer: The Jellicle Cats belong to TSE, ALW & RUG. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is mine.  
  
A great big thank you goes to Deirdriu for betaing part of the story.

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**MASTERING THE MAGIC OF LIFE - PART I **  
© Triskell, October 2000/January, February/March 2001  
  


**Dedicated to Syl, with Misto Sparkles & Quaxo Hugs**

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The black cat with the white stockings on his feet stretched languidly in the sun. He had lain basking in its warmth for the better part of the afternoon and he felt the evening chill prickle the hairs on the back of his neck even before the first lengthening shadows descended.  
  
"Quaxo! Come in deary, it's getting cold!"  
  
He jumped to his feet in one fluid motion and glided towards his human friend. The young woman on the front porch smiled at him, stepping aside a little to give him room to pass through the door.  
  
Quaxo purred rubbing himself against her shins. She was quite nice - for a human. But he already missed his friends at the junkyard… The Jellicles, his tribe, met there frequently, some of them even lived there; but if he wanted to visit or join them for the annual Jellicle Ball he needed an opportunity to get away without creating suspicion, or worry.  
  
Being little more than a year old, the black kitten still knew exactly what he wanted…and how to get it. Concentrating on the blinds for a moment, he sighed in satisfaction when they dropped down over the windows, shutting out the last rays of the sun that had shone directly into his eyes.  
  
The young woman beside him jumped, then laughed, a little uncertainly. Quaxo shook his head softly. He would have to be more careful. He did have those powers that allowed him to do certain things - magic, the humans called it. It was a gift he'd only discovered a while ago, but that seemed to have been there for as long as he had lived.  
  
He couldn't ask his parents about it though, for he didn't have any, or so it seemed. When he had been a kitten, he'd been left on his own - all he remembered was hunger, and cold. He had lain in a dark street, meowing pitifully and no one had come to claim him, to take care of him. He dreamt of these hours and days now and then, colourful nightmares that chilled him still.  
  
How he had survived he never knew. Maybe it was his stubborn streak, one that refused to give in, no matter what. The odds had been against him, yet he had persevered. And a black kitten with some leopard spots and a huge mane had found him eventually.  
  
In fact, it had stumbled across him, almost falling on its nose. Cursing it had turned around and seen Quaxo shivering, a ball of black with a few white spots, fur sticking out and stirring slightly in the sharp wind.  
  
"Hey, what are you?"  
  
A little nudge with the warm nose and the kitten heard a soft 'meow'. Thoroughly convinced that it was dealing with another cat, it had simply grabbed Quaxo by the neck and taken him along to his home, a junkyard long abandoned by the humans on the outskirts of town.  
  
And the little black fur ball had hung about his saviour ever since. In the first nights he spent at his new home, he had curled up to the young tom, caterwauling pitifully whenever they were parted.  
  
"Seems he's taken a liking to you, Tuggy. You'll just have to stay with him for a while, there's a dear," a ginger female, Jenny, had said and the matter had been settled.  
  
Tugger had let Quaxo sleep with him, though he seemed a little unsure of what he had done to deserve a kitten treating him as if he were its mother…  
  
The other cats had made fun of him, of course, called him 'mummy', and after a few days the black fur ball had begun to fear he'd lose his new friend, since the young tom tried to keep him away.  
  
Until his brother intervened. A grey tabby, two weeks older than Tugger, Munkustrap was quiet and had a deep commitment to any and all tasks.  
  
"Come on, Tug, you can't leave the kit alone! He depends on you! If you want, I'll help you out, but think about it. He's got no one but you and he's # frightened."  
  
"As long as he won't run after me…" was the gruff reply, but Quaxo, hiding behind a fluffy rug in the dark of the pipe he and Tugger slept in, had heard the warmth and goodwill in the tone.  
  
It took the black kitten a while to get used to the other young cats that were, unlike him, very boisterous and naughty. He couldn't quite find a way to be accepted by his age mates, he was small and for all the grooming he received from Munkustrap and occasionally from Tugger, he always still looked scruffy.  
  
But it didn't take long before Quaxo's adopted 'brother' decided on boosting his confidence. For all his wild ways and his ego that, at times, threatened to blow up the junkyard, Tugger was a good tom.  
  
"Why're you hiding, little one? You should be playing with Pounce, Tumble and the others."  
  
"I don't…belong."  
  
"Nonsense! You're a kit like them."  
  
"They aren't interested in me."  
  
"Then you've got to attract their attention. Listen, it's really easy. There are several ways…come out of that pipe already and I'll tell ya."  
  
And Quaxo had come out, sitting down beside Tugger and gazing up at him out of huge, dark, trusting eyes.  
  
"So, first of all…Munku reminded me that you didn't have a name just the other day."  
  
"You mean like you and…"  
  
"Yep. Just think of one. It's your decision, ya know."  
  
Quaxo nodded, not quite understanding, but not wanting to get onto Tugger's nerves.  
  
"Right, so, to get the others' attention - you can either follow my example or…Munku's. I guess it depends…maybe you'd better start by making yourself useful, offering your help when they're playing. It's quite tame, easy to do if you're not afraid of being knocked about a bit. Munku's been doing it all his life, not my style, but he gets on pretty well I'd say."  
  
The black kitten smiled, nodding. He understood perfectly. That was something he could do indeed, and it would surely work out.  
  
"And later on, when you've become indispensable, you might wanna try and show them that you're made of other stuff than they are…"  
  
"What does that mean? I'm a cat like them, aren't I?"  
  
"Sure," Tugger grinned, a mischievous twinkle stealing into his eyes, "but that doesn't mean you are exactly like them. Everyone has a special gift. Use it to your advantage and you'll stand out and be respected above the others."  
  
"What is your gift?"  
  
"My attractive features and my charm of course, little one. What did you think? My sense of duty and responsibility?" he snorted, the warmth in his eyes belying his derisive voice, "I'm not a bore like Munku…"  
  
Quaxo spent most of his time near the other kittens from then on, and though he soon was accepted as their playmate of sorts, he never had the feeling he truly belonged.  
  
It was on one of his solitary strolls through the junkyard that had become customary for him, that he ran into a calico queen. She eyed him, a tad suspiciously, but then smiled,  
"'ey. Who're ya?"  
  
Her accent was strong and pronounced, and her grin infectious.  
  
"I don't have a name yet," it was one of the most embarrassing moments in Quaxo's life - after all, there he was talking to another cat and couldn't even properly introduce himself.  
  
"No name? That's strange - I guess yer parents'll find one soon enough though."  
  
"I don't have any parents."  
  
The young queen looked at him for a while, then she suddenly nudged him slightly in the side and rubbed her head against his neck,  
"It's not nice, eh. But it also means ye're free ta do whatever ya want."  
  
"It's lonely."  
  
"Aye, it is. Until ya find friends that is," she offered him her paw, grinning, "I'm Rumpleteazer. Rumple or Teazer for me friends."  
  
'SMASH'  
  
The two cats jumped, and Quaxo wanted to hide behind the queen at once, the sound chilling him to the bones for a reason he couldn't explain.  
  
"Oops, sorry. Didna mean for that ta 'appen!"  
  
A calico tom Rumpleteazer's age dropped down beside them, smiling good-naturedly at them, "Who's that new friend o' yers?"  
  
"Got no name yet," indicating the other cat with a nod, "that's Mungojerrie, me best friend."  
  
"But ya must 'ave a name! The ball's comin' up! Only one more week ta go! Ya need a name by then!"  
  
The black kitten hung his head dejectedly. He felt really stupid all of a sudden. As if he had picked up on his mood, the young tom nudged him with his paw, "No reason ta get all riled up! We'll 'elp ya if ya want!"  
  
"Aye, that'll be fun!" Rumpleteazer said, a giggle erupting from her.  
  
Looking up at them, the kitten found no words, so he just purred, smiling.  
  
Quaxo well remembered how long it had taken them to find his name. The first obstacle had been his total ignorance of the fact that a cat had three names all in all. So Mungojerrie, shaking his head with all the worldly experience of six months, explained patiently,  
"Well, ya know, we all got three names. There's one that the 'umans will give ya. So ya need not find a name for the likes o' them, it's gonna change whenever ya switch yer family but…"  
  
"…the second name's more important," Rumpelteazer chimed in, nudging the calico tom playfully, "it's the one that the other cats will use when talkin' ta ya."  
  
"Ye'll be known throughout the junkyard and even outside by that name."  
  
"And the third?" the kitten's eyes were already huge.  
  
"It's one that ya'll never share with anyone. It's yers only. Takes a lifetime to figure out, or so the old ones say."  
  
"Aye, sure takes ages, I doubt that anyone but Old Deuteronomy 'as a third name 'ereabouts."  
  
"So I have to find a name that the tribe will know me by?"  
  
The two calicos nodded their heads in unison, grinning. The kitten sighed, "I can't think of anything!"  
  
"Well, ya know, it doesna come out of the blue," Mungojerrie said.  
  
"I came up with me name while sleepin'. Just popped into me head," Rumpleteazer added, smiling encouragingly.  
  
"Gosh, I've 'ad enough o' sittin' 'ere! Come on, race ya to the other end of the yard!" and, jumping to his feet, the calico tom raced ahead, followed, moments later, by a squealing Rumpleteazer.  
  
"Lazy bone, come on! Ya can't let 'im get through with it!" she called across her shoulder and the kitten looked up, smiling, taking up the pursuit alongside his friend.  
  
That night, the black kitten dreamt of a long, winding road ahead of it, a distance too far to walk in a day, the end not even visible at the horizon. Still it set out, refusing to acknowledge defeat already at the start of the journey.  
  
It was quiet, there wasn't even the song of birds overhead or the dim bustle of the humans' city, their machines and voices; the silence was palpable and almost unreal.  
  
Somewhere along the road, when the kitten had lost track of time and place, felt suspended in nothingness, drawn towards a goal it couldn't even see, it met an old queen. She suddenly appeared at the side of the road, but she looked as if she had sat there for a very long time.  
  
She looked up as the kitten approached and smiled benevolently at it.  
  
"There you are, at last."  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Who are you?" she replied and the kitten answered, instinctively, "I'm Mistoffelees, Quaxo for my friends."  
  
"Ah, so you have two second names, one for the world, and one to express your special power," the old queen stated, matter-of-factly.  
  
On opening its mouth to answer, the kitten awoke, startled, mumbling his names still half asleep.  
  
"What's up, little one? Nightmare?" Tugger's voice was still sleepy, he wasn't fully awake, or else he might have suppressed the concern in his question.  
  
The kitten grinned, "Quaxo, my name's Quaxo."  
  
He didn't say 'Mistoffelees' - it seemed to him that this name was still shrouded in mystery somewhat, as if the meaning wasn't clear yet and therefore speaking it was out of the question.  
  
"Ah…nice, Quake…"  
  
"Quaxo!"  
  
"Ok, Quaxo, right? Can I go back to sleep now?"  
  
The kitten purred, playfully nudging Tugger's nose with its small white paw. Grumbling, the elder tom curled up around the fur ball, patting its head once more before succumbing to sleep again.  
  
A few days later, Quaxo had officially become a Jellicle. In fact, it had been no more than a formal recognition of the place he had in the tribe; no cat would have dared throw him out - apart from his being small and helpless, the silent support offered by Tugger and Munkustrap standing behind him was more than enough.  
  
Old Deuteronomy had declared all kittens to be Jellicles then and they had come forward, one by one, to utter their name.  
  
"Electra," spoken confidently and daring anyone to question her name or position.  
  
"Etct…Ecte…Etcetera," the kitten stuttered, stumbling across her own name and feet.  
  
"Jemima," a breathless whisper, huge eyes fixed on Jenny who nodded in encouragement, smiling.  
  
When the small black tom stepped forward, his nervousness showed plainly in his walk and he thought, for a moment, that turning on his heel and hiding behind Tugger or Munkustrap would be far better than such a public scrutiny.  
  
"'ey!" looking upwards, he saw Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer sitting on a huge box, grinning madly and waving at their friend. The young queen gave him a thumbs-up sign, winking at him.  
  
Suppressing a smile, he stepped forward, the wobbling in his knees subsiding, "Quaxo."  
  
The other cats nodded slowly, acknowledging the name and the kitten hastily joined Tugger and Munkustrap, who clapped him on the shoulder, smiling proudly. The introduction of the next Jellicle was hindered - Mungojerrie had, in his enthusiasm, leant forward a little too far and fallen from the spot he'd perched on, landing in front of Old Deuteronomy with a decided 'thud'.  
  
"Sorry…"  
  
Rumpleteazer jumped down beside him and nudged him to his feet, giggling and enjoying the discomfort on her friend's features.  
  
"I 'aven't 'eard the last o' that, I tell ya," the calico tom whispered into Quaxo's ear, winking at the young queen.  
  
"Pouncival," the next kitten cried out, doing a somersault.  
  
"Too much energy that one," Munkustrap remarked, the stern remark belied by his grin and Tugger added, "Might grow up to be just like me…" With a mock growl, his brother rolled his eyes.  
  
"Tumblebrutus."  
  
"Victoria."  
  
Quaxo looked at her in silence. She was the most striking of the kittens with her white fur and soft eyes; she wore a costly collar, therefore the black tom assumed she had already found a human family - and a rich one at that. As if reading his thoughts, Mungojerrie informed him,  
"Bustopher's family took 'er in, she's spoilt, ya'd better not get yer 'opes up about 'er."  
  
The rest of the night, the adult cats had taken turns at kitten-sitting, since the newest additions to the tribe were yet too young to keep up dancing for such a long time and decidedly not old enough for the mating dance.  
  
Quaxo was surprised when Jenny shooed away Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, not allowing them to take their turn at supervising the kittens and since the ginger queen would not answer his questions, he flung them all at Munkustrap.  
  
Since Tugger had steadfastly refused to stir anywhere that was more than a feet away from the queens on his first real ball, Quaxo had given up on seeing the other tom before noon the next day, assuming he'd have company staying and sleep in.  
  
"Why wouldn't Jenny let Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer kitten-sit?"  
  
"She thinks you're still too easily influenced and that their…way of life isn't…"  
  
"What way of life?"  
  
"They're burglars; I would, however, prefer you keep that to yourself, Quaxo."  
  
"They steal?" the kitten's voice was full of honest disbelief, and if anyone but Munkustrap had made such an assessment he might have called him a liar.  
  
"Yes. But, you know, they're good cats; they're absolutely loyal to the tribe and they…if you ask them nicely they'll return their loot."  
  
"Why do they steal it in the first place then?"  
  
"Ask them. I don't want to put about half-truths…they learned nothing else where they grew up, I believe. It's since they came here that their ways are mending."  
  
"But they're not dangerous, are they?"  
  
The grey tabby laughed outright, patting Quaxo's head, "No way! Just don't let them involve you in any of their 'jobs' or other mischief; you can trust them with your life, I'm sure, just not with your reputation."  
  
"So Munku told ya what exactly?" Rumpleteazer lay on her back, her tail tangling about a piece of cardboard as she tried time and again to pick it up.  
  
"That you were stealing things."  
  
"Aye, that's what we do," Mungojerrie said, nodding his head, serious for once.  
  
"But why?"  
  
"We grew up like that. Ya know, sometimes ya 'ave to do things that are not right to survive. And sometimes…ya learn nothin' else."  
  
"But how did you know that what you were doing was wrong if no one told you?"  
  
"Munku told us," Mungojerrie mentioned, his voice matter-of-fact, as if it were well known everywhere that the grey tabby had played a part in their story.  
  
"Munkustrap?" Quaxo couldn't believe it! "He didn't tell me about that."  
  
"Ya know, 'e's a quiet cat, never puttin' 'imself forward and such."  
  
"When 'e was younger, 'e used ta roam about town a lot, and we met 'im a couple o' times."  
  
"We got ta talkin' and 'e was shocked when 'e found out we were stealin'."  
  
"So what happened?"  
  
"Well, 'e told us to stop and be good."  
  
"And you did?" Quaxo couldn't quite believe his two friends would have changed their way of life simply because Munkustrap told them to, no matter how persuasive the tabby might be.  
  
"Nay, not us! But then we ran into trouble with our boss."  
  
"Macavity."  
  
The black kitten shuddered. That name was famous - a tom known as a notorious and dangerous crime lord, never giving in, showing no mercy…  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"We didna know where ta go, we 'ad no one…and then we remembered the junkyard. Munku 'ad told us we'd be welcome to join, if we mended our ways."  
  
Rumpleteazer sighed, "It was as good a choice as any; nothin' much to lose for us, so we came. And Munku stood up for us, 'e said we deserved a chance…"  
  
Quaxo nodded; he understood what it had felt like for them, all alone. He'd been unsure of his welcome in the tribe for the month he'd spent with them, before the ball. And always Tugger and Munkustrap had been there, accepting him.  
  
"Wanna play?"  
  
"Kittens 'round Tugger again, eh?" Mungojerrie grinned, lazily tugging the piece of cardboard away from Rumpleteazer's tail, eyeing her carefully; he was ready when she pounced upon him, wrestling the 'treasure' from him again and stalking off, her back to the two toms.  
  
"Goin' ta get 'er piece of Tugger now, I warrant."  
  
Quaxo was puzzled by the wistful tone creeping into the calico's voice.  
  
The scent of autumn leaves lay on the wind when Quaxo walked past the vicarage a few days later, down to the little stream that ran, happily bubbling, along the cemetery wall. It was one of his favourite spots to relax and he sometimes even caught a fish.  
  
Since he often fell into the water during his exploits, the little black tom had soon learned how to keep his head above the surface, treading with his paws and splashing about. He didn't particularly enjoy the feel of wetness, but it just wasn't something that could be helped when he wanted to get a little bit extra for dinner, since neither Munkustrap nor Tugger had time for fishing.  
  
This time, however, he saw another kitten at the stream, obviously in deep concentration, paw raised and quivering in anticipation.  
  
Looking hard, he recognized Pouncival's mottled fur and was just about to call to him, when the other tom moved as if to grab a fish and, with a high-pitched shriek, stumbled and fell into the water.  
  
Quaxo was about to laugh, but then he noticed the other spluttering, paws flailing madly as his head was time and again swallowed by the stream. Instinct took over as the black tom raced towards the bank, not thinking as he jumped straight into the icy water, that cut through his fur and froze his skin the moment he touched the surface.  
  
"Grab my paw!" he yelled, trying hard to reach Pouncival, for he knew that a little further downstream, towards where they were drifting, the current grew stronger and made it much harder to paddle back to the bank.  
  
The other kitten was gasping, still mostly submerged in the stream, but it had heard Quaxo and dutifully tried to reach him, but with the cold water and its panicked fear it was clear there was no way it could make it.  
  
Setting his jaw firmly against the chilling wetness, the black tom concentrated, willing Pouncival to come closer to him, since he wasn't sure he could reach him before they reached the area with the stronger current. He was a slow swimmer, out of necessity, and did his best not to have a lot of practice in it.  
  
Though the effort drained him, Quaxo managed to pull the other kitten towards him, grabbing his paw as soon as it was in reach and paddling wildly, dragging Pouncival along,  
"Move…paws, tread…can't pull!"  
  
Understanding finally dawning, the mottled tom did his best, though he still spluttered madly, doing his best to keep his head above the surface.  
  
It seemed like an eternity until they finally reached the bank and with one last effort Quaxo pulled the other kitten onto dry ground.  
  
Pouncival was coughing, his ears drooping and his breathing ragged and the black tom fell onto his back, shivering and closing his eyes, relieved.  
  
Minutes later, the wind stirred his wet fur and he started, pulling himself up,  
"Gotta get back."  
  
Pouncival only nodded, still coughing and Quaxo had to nudge him before he got up, moving slowly and unsteadily swaying on his feet.  
  
Trudging slowly towards the junkyard, tired and freezing, neither of them spoke.  
  
Bombalurina was the first to notice their entrance and she sidled over to them, shaking her head,  
"Whatever have you two been up to? You look like drowned rats!"  
  
Pouncival shivered even more when he heard the word 'drowned' and the red queen stared at them, suddenly placing her paws on their shoulders,  
"You two'd better see Jenny and Jelly; else you'll catch a cold."  
  
It took the kittens a few days to get over the initial shock, Quaxo being the first to recover completely. They both lay amidst piles of blankets, and visitors were strictly forbidden, Jenny insisting on them sleeping it all off.  
  
Pouncival was uncharacteristically silent, but he looked at the black tom sometimes, almost shyly, averting his eyes the moment he turned. Quaxo didn't think too much about it, he had gotten used to not being talked to by the other kittens.  
  
He sat with them, listening, watched them play, got things for them - mostly yarn or balls which Rumpleteazer or Mungojerrie happened to 'just' leave lying around in front of Tugger's dwelling, to the heartthrob's great annoyance.  
  
"Now what if a queen came by to visit and slipped on one of these darn things?" was his sniffed comment every time.  
  
Quaxo however knew that the two mischief makers were more concerned with giving him a chance to contribute to the games - for all their wild ways they were warm-hearted cats and both very sensible when it came to noticing loneliness or a little black tom who felt left-out…  
  
Pouncival did a bit of thinking as well, for he was by no means sure what to make of his 'saviour'. It had never occurred to him how little he knew about Quaxo - it seemed as if the other kitten was always there, and always sat at the sidelines, throwing the yarn balls back to the others when they rolled in front of his paws.  
  
He still shivered at the mere thought of water and he was surprised at the easy casualness with which the black tom had shrugged off all that had happened and merrily annoyed Jenny by swatting at her tail when she wasn't looking.  
  
Pouncival didn't know what to say to Quaxo - and that was why he didn't even attempt to talk. It was a new thing for him - not finding the right words - since he was usually very talkative and it bothered him to think that he owed the other kitten his life and could not even properly thank him for it.  
  
When Jenny finally released them from under her watchful eyes, he slipped past Quaxo, mumbling, barely audible, "Thanks," embarrassed for his own inaptitude at standing up to the other even more than for his inadequate words.  
  
The black tom heard him nevertheless and smiled, though Pouncival was already halfway across the yard and he couldn't tell him that it had been nothing, nothing at all…  
  
Now that they had been released from Jenny's care, the kittens went their own ways, as usual and, to the disinterested observer it might have seemed as if nothing had ever happened.  
  
However, the next time Quaxo walked by the others while they were playing catch, Pouncival looked up and bounded over to him,  
"Wanna play?"  
  
Unused to being asked to actually join in a game, the black tom didn't know what to answer - until the other kitten tapped his shoulder, grinned and jumped away,  
"Can't catch me…"  
  
"We'll see about that," Quaxo mumbled, coming out of his trance and racing after Pouncival, right into the group of shrieking kittens.  
  
"You do know you're a tom, don't you?"  
  
"Wha…?" Quaxo babbled, snapping out of his drowsy doze and looking blearily at Pouncival.  
  
The other tom grinned mischievously, indicating his tail and the black kitten sighed when he saw the neat, multicoloured bows that set off his black and white fur,  
"El, that isn't funny at all!" he said, pouting at the innocent look the little queen put on, succeeding in making her laugh outright.  
  
"You were sleeping, didn't even stir…"  
  
"And you probably encouraged her…"  
  
"Of course," Pouncival nodded eagerly, "who'd you think kept your tail from whisking about?"  
  
Giving a mock growl, Quaxo jumped to his paws, racing after the giggling kittens. He ran headfirst into Etcetera just then and flung her to the ground,  
"Pfff, get off of me, Quax!" she said, smiling up at him good-naturedly.  
  
Blushing, the tom did just that, remembering only too well what Tugger had recently told him about toms and queens…  
  
"Sorry…"  
  
"What happened to your tail? The duo been at you?"  
  
Quaxo grinned, shaking his head,  
"Not the notorious striped one though - Pounce and El."  
  
"Want me to get them off before you go chasing them all across the junkyard?"  
  
"Th…that would be…nice," he stammered, blushing furiously again. Giggling, the young queen dropped to the ground, beginning to undo the bows. Quaxo sat down beside her, reaching for the red tie at the tip of his tail.  
  
"Heard the newest gossip?" Etcetera asked innocently, her eyes sparkling.  
  
"Nope, what's up?"  
  
"Jemi saw a new queen about!"  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, she was hobbling into the yard, totally bedraggled and scared."  
  
Quaxo looked up, baffled,  
"Sounds bad."  
  
"Jemi said Bombalurina was all over her the moment she saw her. And Munkustrap shooed everyone away."  
  
"Wow, that sure is news! Think we'll meet her tonight? Tugger said there was an assembly."  
  
Before Etcetera could answer, a young white queen strutted into their view, followed by Jemima's darker form.  
  
Waving, Quaxo called to them, "Vic, Jemi, over here!"  
  
That night, the kittens watched wide-eyed as Old Deuteronomy introduced the newcomer to them,  
"My dears, please welcome Demeter in our midst. She is a friend of Bombalurina's and, as you can see, she's had a rough time. I have chosen to give her the opportunity of becoming a tribe member, if none of you object."  
  
Since no one did, he continued, his voice grave and warm,  
"Do be kind to Demeter, we should do all we can to make her feel welcome!"  
  
With that he stepped down from the tire and took the young queen's arm softly, guiding her towards Bombalurina, who took her paws gently in her own, passing them to Jenny. Quaxo pricked up his ears, as he watched the newcomer being led from cat to cat, officially accepted as one of the tribe.  
  
Apart from him, no one seemed to notice the slight shiver in her slender frame every time a tom touched her, and when the black tom's turn came to take her paws he said, so quietly that only she could hear,  
"You're safe here."  
  
Wary green eyes met his and she gave him a tight smile before accepting Etcetera's grasp.  
  
Winter was nearing, the coldness palpable in the air now and from time to time snowflakes fell shimmering to the ground, dissolving hazily in the dim light. Quaxo had taken to trotting about town, mostly accompanied by Rumpleteazer, Mungojerrie or Munkustrap.  
  
The tabby had decided it would be better for the kitten to spend the cold months with a human family, being taken care of and having a warm bed. Since disputing the point was useless with an adamant and concerned Munkustrap, Quaxo acquiesced, not believing that anyone would actually take him in.  
  
"Munku! Quaxo! I got a place for ya! Saw it today when I was…doin' some stuff. I'll show ya, come on!"  
  
Mungojerrie was prancing in front of them excitedly, so the two other cats shrugged their shoulders and followed him. Neither of them commented on the absence of Rumpleteazer. She hadn't been talking with her friend and partner for a week now and since neither of them wanted to interfere in personal matters…  
  
"Right 'ere! Ain't it great?"  
  
The building was not exactly remarkable as the cats looked at it, neither was the lawn or the back garden. It was a semi-detached house, in a clean, quiet neighbourhood. A middle-class area of town obviously, not too fancy, yet not too shabby either.  
  
"It'll do just fine, I'd say…but are you sure they'll take Quaxo in?"  
  
Mungojerrie nodded, his grin fading somewhat as he said, "I went to the 'ouse - and 'eard them talk. Their cat died a week ago…they're feelin' lonely without 'im, said they might get a new one…"  
  
Quaxo could barely contain his excitement - he might find a place! A home with the humans, for the time he wasn't staying at the junkyard with his friends; his own adopted family, like the other kittens had!  
  
"Ahem, what do I do now?" he asked, suddenly nervous. Mungojerrie grinned good-naturedly, nudging him forward,  
"Just sit on the doorstep and meow! That should do it."  
  
"We'll be around the corner, if you need us; don't worry, they'll love you!"  
  
A grin and the two older toms were gone. Quaxo steeled himself, raising his head and straightening his back. He would be at his most presentable. He seated himself in front of the door, turning his eyes upwards as he began to meow pitifully.  
  
It was only moments later that a key was turned in the lock and he came face-to-knees with a human. Since looking any further upwards was hardly possible, even for a lithe cat like him, he contended himself with getting up and moving towards the knees, still meowing as he rubbed against the human's shins.  
  
"Now, what have we here? Syl, dear, there is indeed a cat at the door."  
  
No sooner had the deep voice boomed out the words than hurried footsteps were heard, echoing in Quaxo's sensitive ears. Unused to the noise level of humans in general and shouting humans in particular, he was quite daunted.  
  
But not for long - he was scooped up suddenly, gasping when his paws left the ground and a soft voice whispered into his ear while his head was patted and stroked gently.  
  
"Seems like he's really found a home," Munkustrap remarked, pleased.  
  
"Aye," was the somewhat muffled reply. When the tabby turned around, Mungojerrie was already walking back towards the junkyard, lost in his own thoughts. Shrugging, his friend joined him.  
  
Quaxo soon settled in with the humans, and he was heartily glad for the warmth of their house for that winter proved to be one of the harshest in the past ten years. He was surprised to find that the pollicle that the family kept was, apart from lacking brains, a very nice sort of animal.  
  
Bello the bulldog was past his prime already; slow in all things, complacent and true. Since his mistress and her parents had chosen to adopt that black fur ball, which later turned out to be a kitten, he didn't complain, preferring to sleep.  
  
Quaxo couldn't help but like the huge lump - he was warm to snuggle up to and never pushed him away; growling low in his throat was the only warning of any kind that told the cat to keep his distance when Bello was feeling irritable.  
  
But still the young tom wouldn't be completely parted from his tribe and often set out for an afternoon visit just after lunch. The junkyard wasn't too far away and he always made it back shortly before nightfall. He didn't dare stay longer, since the humans were always worried about him, dreading he'd get hurt it seemed.  
  
It was on one of his winter visits that Quaxo discovered his extraordinary abilities. He had always felt there was something about him and since having been told that he possessed a 'gift' he had been keen to find out what it was.  
  
He was sitting beside Mungojerrie, watching Tugger's antics and the queens who gazed at him, 'worship' written plainly across their features when he picked up the annoyance rolling off of his friend in waves.  
  
Though not an unusual occurrence per se, Quaxo was still surprised to be so palpably confronted with another cat's feelings. Refusing to pay too much attention to something that was very likely nothing more than a hunch or some sort of instinct, he indicated the crowd with a shake of his head and said,  
"Seems like they're all over him again."  
  
"Aye, sure are."  
  
"Any new jobs lately?"  
  
"Nay."  
  
Not wanting to pry, Quaxo just looked on, foregoing a remark about Rumpleteazer's not being of the party in all of Mungojerrie's latest exploits - or so Munkustrap had told him; the loot had been brought in and carried back by the calico tom - and by him alone.  
  
"She's in love with 'im." A stifled sigh followed; not much, but it was still more of a reaction than Quaxo had actually hoped for. He was burning with curiosity already, and he really wanted to know if his friends had quarrelled or if there was something else entirely…  
  
"All the queens like him, even the kittens go limp with adoration when he passes."  
  
"Beats me."  
  
"He says it's his charm."  
  
"It's that e's unattainable - not 'is charm, mind ya! 'e makes light o' them and their attention and they love 'im for it."  
  
Quaxo shrugged his shoulders, "He once told me that every cat plays on their own special gift and powers to attain the level of reputation and renown that he wants."  
  
"What does 'e want any more attention for? 'e's got the whole tribe lyin' at 'is feet!"  
  
"You don't care about the rest of the tribe, do you?"  
  
"I like 'er. She treats me like 'er brother, and…"  
  
"…you'd like more?" the black kitten finished for him, eyes wide, all playfulness and curiosity gone and replaced with concern. Quaxo was quite ready to understand and to offer his sympathy. Right now, he couldn't help but feel the dejected despair his friend was in…  
  
"Don't worry! She'll come back, they all do - otherwise none of the other toms would ever get a mate! And then, Teazer's far too clever to fall for his act for long."  
  
"That doesna 'elp. She mightna be in love with Tugger forever, but there are other toms…"  
  
"Since when do you give up?"  
  
Mungojerrie looked at Quaxo, a grin suddenly forming on his face, "Aye, that's right. I mustna give up!"  
  
"And there's one thing you shouldn't forget - you know Teazer as no one else does! And she knows you better than anyone else - there'll always be something special between you."  
  
The calico did look a little cheerier, but Quaxo added, as an afterthought that just 'felt' right, "You'll never lose her; you're connected, like that term the humans have: soul mates."  
  
And this was enough to bring back the cheeky, self-assured Mungojerrie for he grinned wickedly, jumped off their seat, crept up behind the young queen and tugged at her tail.  
  
"'ey! Jerrie…I'll get ya for that!" And she was racing after him, pouncing upon him playfully, Tugger all but forgotten…for the moment.  
  
Watching them silently, Quaxo pondered about his sudden 'instinctive prompts'. It wasn't the first time such a thing had happened, and he somehow knew it wouldn't be the last. He could simply tell whenever someone else was worried, or concerned, or happy, and he was also very good at clearing the air; always saying the right thing to dissipate ill feelings most certainly was a talent.  
  
Later that day, Quaxo crept back home, dusk already shrouding the alleys in lengthening shadows. A rustle in a side street alerted his attention and he would have run, identifying some of the bullying strays so common in this particular neighbourhood.  
  
He didn't have the chance however, since three huge toms circled him even before he had finished his thought. Their cold eyes chilled the kitten to the bone, yet he wouldn't lose his ground; more than once he'd heard the elder Jellicles tell of catfights - the worst thing one could do was to give way…  
  
"Get the kit!" There was a derisive sneer in the phrase and the husky voice sounded like a thunderbolt in Quaxo's ears. He knew he didn't stand a chance, but he WOULD NOT let any of these bullies get him, not ever!  
  
Stubbornly remaining frozen to the spot, his fear rose in his chest and made breathing difficult and when the first dirty paw reached onto his shoulder he hissed, slashing with his claws, only to find himself pinned to the ground by a cat three times his size and four times his weight.  
  
Murder. Kill him. The words hung in the air, unspoken, like the white puffs of exhaled breath in the chilly evening and Quaxo was angry, furious; not afraid anymore, he was too full of aggression - all the times he'd been pushed aside coming up before his eyes - all too clearly and these toms were only figures of his past, faded memories of wounds that had never fully healed.  
  
"NO!" Quaxo's voice was shrill and echoed eerily against the brick walls of the deserted street as blue lightening bolts erupted from him, slashing into his attackers with the force of a thousand steely claws, tearing at them, drawing howls of pain out of them, blood and vengeance…  
  
And then all was quiet, too quiet, for there was not even the whisper of the human vehicles in the background and even the wind had stilled. The world lay dead.  
  
Quaxo was breathing heavily, irregularly, staring wide-eyed at a bunch of bleeding, scratched toms that glared at him, shivering, and the fear in their eyes a stark contrast to their bared teeth, extended claws.  
  
An impulse made the kitten turn and bolt - back to the junkyard. He had no other place to go, he was shaking, shivering, the magnitude of what had happened coming upon him in a flash…  
  
The gate leading to the junkyard rattled as he brushed past, frantic, just wanting someone to confide in, a shoulder to lean on…any cat at all…  
  
"Need to talk…" he huffed at Tugger, who looked up at him quizzically; the admiring glances of the queens returned to their idol a moment later, ignoring the ruffled, breathless kitten. Only Bombalurina took in his appearance and, while the others were staring into Tugger's face, nudged him softly in the side, indicating Quaxo with a look.  
  
The notorious flirt nodded curtly, brushing past his admirers and putting his arm round the black tom's shoulder,  
"Gotta go, ladies; seems like Munk's decided he can't do without me and employed the poor kit here as messenger."  
  
Giggling followed the two cats as they retreated and Quaxo shot his friend a look that, for most others, would have been easy to interpret as a hurt pride at being called a 'kitten'.  
  
"Now, what is it? Bomba's the last one to have hunches about nothing. One of your little friends jilted you?"  
  
"I…toms…fright…ened and…shot…blue…!"  
  
"That's not exactly clear, kit. Calm down and tell me from the start." Tugger's voice held a tinge of irritation.  
  
"I…shot…blue lightening!"  
  
To his outrage, the other tom started laughing so hard that, after a few moments, he was practically rolling on the ground, unable to control the shrieks of merriment.  
  
"It's true!"  
  
"Now, kit, that was…the best…joke ever!"  
  
"It wasn't a joke and I'm NOT a kitten!" Quaxo shouted, near boiling point, Tugger was now walking on his already stretched nerves and so he closed his eyes, concentrating on his powers and…zapped a blast of blue lightening straight in front of the other's paws.  
  
"Eeeooww!" was his only response and the greatest flirt ever to walk the junkyard sat on his behind, eyes huge and an expression of shocked disbelief on his face.  
  
Munkustrap came bounding up towards them just then, clearly not as easily put out as his brother, "Careful with that! You don't want to blow him up, now do you?"  
  
"He wouldn't believe me!"  
  
"Now, Quaxo, you're not all that young. Give me that plaything of yours and I'll get rid of it, it's far too dangerous!" Munkustrap kept his voice level, though a decidedly mischievous enjoyment of Tugger's discomfort and dishevelled state was visible in his dark eyes.  
  
"That was no 'plaything'! That was ME!"  
  
The tabby stared at the black kitten, but just as he opened his mouth the other tom spoke up, picking himself up from the ground,  
"He damn was! Munku - he's been shooting blue lightening at me! He aimed and shot!" the voice was as wobbly as Tugger's knees and he settled down onto an old cardboard box almost immediately, still shaken.  
  
"I think you'll have to explain that, Quaxo!" the tabby seated himself beside his brother and two pairs of awed eyes looked up at the kitten as he began his tale…  
  
From then on, Quaxo had been left to 'train' his abilities more and more frequently. None of the other kittens knew about them, Munkustrap and Tugger had sworn to keep it all a secret. They didn't even tell Old Deuteronomy. It was with great care that the black tom worked on his lightening bolts…and the other powers he soon realised he had.  
  
He could move small objects by looking at them and he sometimes even managed to make them disappear and reappear. It was during these quiet hours of learning that Tugger most often joined Quaxo.  
  
They had come to a silent understanding. The kitten would be fully accepted and treated as an adult and no one would ever hear about that lightening bolt… and the elder tom's undignified state. Munkustrap kept out of it all, refusing even to mention that it had happened.  
  
Three months before Quaxo's first true Jellicle Ball, the one that would officially make him an adult, Old Deuteronomy appointed Munkustrap his right paw, the second leader of the Jellicle tribe. It was an incredible honour and a great responsibility to be bestowed upon one so young. But, as Tugger put it,  
"Was about time! Munku's been running everything smoothly for the past year now; least that the old one could have done to show his efforts are appreciated!"  
  
There had been a ceremony at the occasion, but Quaxo hadn't been able to attend, since his human friend was ill and wanted his company.  
  
During that time the black kitten had practiced with his new-discovered powers and, on returning to the junkyard, he sought out his best friend to demonstrate them and to tell him of an idea that had formed in his mind…  
  
"What do you think?" Quaxo looked at his friend with a huge grin on his face - he had just managed to make himself vanish and to reappear right behind Tugger, making him jump.  
  
"Ah…don't do that again! Very impressive, but…"  
  
The kitten laughed outright and clapped its hands twice - its fur changed from plain black to black with sparkles and glitter on it, like tinsel.  
  
"Now that's what I call an outfit! Very clever!" Tugger mimicked a bow and applauded.  
  
"I thought I might show some of my tricks at the ball; it's my first real one, and I'm getting really good at this!"  
  
"Yep, nothing to be said against it," the elder tom grinned mischievously, "trying to impress some of the kittens to be make sure you won't be alone for the mating dance?"  
  
Quaxo's face grew hot and he averted his eyes. It was unnerving to think that his friend had hit the mark so precisely and so effortlessly.  
  
"Oh come, tell me - who is it? I'll just keep my paws off her, ok?"  
  
"I don't need your pity," the kitten mumbled, "I can get a queen without your help!"  
  
"Sure you can! But I don't wanna get into a fight with you - you're too good at blasting me off my feet!"  
  
Though Tugger's face was a mask of studied seriousness, Quaxo caught the grin in his eyes and giggled, "Yeah, I remember…"  
  
"Now, seriously, come on, tell me!"  
  
"I…I've got a second name!"  
  
Grinning good-naturedly and clapping his friend on the back, Tugger accepted the change of topic and asked, "You HAVE a second name - Quaxo!"  
  
"Yes…but… I did have this dream; when I figured out my second name - and there were actually two second names. I never understood, not until now; I'm Quaxo, but when I use those powers, then I am someone else…"  
  
"Ah, so your magical alter ego needed its own name, eh?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Quaxo looked around, checking that no one else was within earshot, "Promise to keep it a secret, until the ball at least…"  
  
Tugger held up his paws in the traditional salute to the Everlasting Cat and nodded.  
  
"Mistoffelees."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"Well, I did some reading - that is, my human friend did some reading - Goethe's "Urfaust" and there's the devil in it; guess what he's called? Mephistopheles!"  
  
"Ahem. So you consider yourself as a…as the…devil? Sure you're ok?"  
  
"Yeah! I was surprised at first, but did you know that Mephistopheles had magical powers, just like me?"  
  
"And you got your name in a dream, you said?"  
  
Quaxo nodded. His friend only sighed, shaking his head,  
"I'm not quite convinced that you are in any way to be connected with a devil, Quaxo. You're a good sort of cat. Now, if we were talking of Macavity… even Mungojerrie is more of a devil than you!"  
  
The kitten grinned broadly, "I do have a few darker sides! That I don't show them doesn't mean they aren't there!"  
  
"Oh, all right, if you insist…" Tugger was not entirely convinced, but eventually he just shrugged and added, "well, Mistoffelees, show me some more of your magical powers now - we gotta get your act together!"  
  
"Make sure you're not seen, Bello!" Quaxo instructed the big bulldog for the umpteenth time. His patience was already sorely tried.  
  
Bello, for all his muscles and size, was a warm-hearted brute, even though his intellect was as good as not there. However, the black tom had found him an useful ally when slipping away for a while - the family dog sneaked to the back of the house, unnoticed and unobserved at night and ate up Quaxo's meals.  
  
That way, the humans didn't worry, believing that he didn't want to be found just then and that he was at least close by, having eaten his share.  
  
When Bello had finally growled his understanding of his part in the game, Quaxo grinned, concentrating for a moment, his paw on the dog's neck and then whispered into his ear, "About that bone you couldn't find: look behind the rose bushes."  
  
It was finally time for Quaxo's first Jellicle Ball, or at least, the first one he would actually participate in. He was now almost a year old and very excited at the thought of the coming night.  
  
Luckily slipping away from the humans had been easy, it wouldn't do to be detained now, and he had to meet Victoria on the way.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Good day to you Quaxo!"  
  
The sleek white kitten was still a little snobbish, but over the past few months she and Quaxo had grown to accept each other - it seemed that the change from youngsters to adults was wreaking a change in their general behaviour towards each other as well.  
  
Their kittenhood would soon be over, however. At this night's Jellicle Ball all last year's kittens would lose their innocence. As was common, most pairings would be an elder queen or tom with a younger tom or queen - those who intended to become a mated couple of course, and those youngsters who simply chose to stay together for the ball.  
  
Who chose whom for "the dance" itself was determined while dancing with each other, flirting with possible partners and testing the mutual attraction. There were always some cats who decided against spending the night with someone and those either strictly kept at the sidelines or lay among the couples later on.  
  
Only one pairing was decided on in advance - the one to represent the loss of innocence and passage into adulthood for the eyes of the Everlasting Cat. It was a ritual, a tradition and being chosen for it was a great honour. This year Victoria would stand in place of all kittens, her partner was to be Plato. He had not participated in the dance the year before and since he had fallen for the young queen it seemed a natural choice.  
  
Vicky would be standing in the spotlight that evening…and the flashing of her eyes betrayed her delight and anxiety.  
  
"Let's go then, we don't want to be late!" Quaxo said, grinning good-naturedly and bounding away in front of her.  
  
On reaching the junkyard, Victoria sidled off in search of her darling Tugger, to moon over him by all appearances. Quaxo strolled off as well, hoping to find Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie and have a chat with them.  
  
He was curious as to how they'd be reacting to the Ball, and if they had chosen to be with each other at the mating dance. He was half-expecting it, he had been feeling they were growing closer of late, spending more time with each other again.  
  
Maybe Jerrie had told her that he… "Sorry!"  
  
Munkustrap hardly noticed the black kitten, brushing past him, features agitated. Quaxo looked after him and, seeing the concern that radiated off his friend and was all too visible in his body language, decided to follow him.  
  
Suddenly the tabby turned, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time and sighed,  
"Gosh, it's you! Don't sneak up on me like that…have you seen Tugger? He was supposed to help me! Always these kits and queens! Why can't he take responsibility for once in his life!"  
  
"I'll get him," Quaxo said with a curt nod and raced off in a flash.  
  
He'd never seen Munkustrap so thoroughly worried, nor was it like the tabby to be so exasperated with his brother. He was usually nothing but fondly amused and mildly surprised by the other tom's antics. Whatever it was, something was lying in the air that night, making it heavy and dangerous.  
  
It wasn't all that hard to find Tugger, since flirting was best accomplished in wide, open places where all females could gather around their idol for hero worshipping. Standing on an old oven, the lean-figured tom was regaling his fans with the latest wild story of his exploits at mouse hunting.  
  
Quaxo crept up, fully conscious of the fact that he was going to disturb his friend and find it hard to get him to see his brother instantly,  
"Ahem…Tugger? Munkustrap's riled up, said you'd probably forgotten that you promised to help…"  
  
Having expected a derisive snort at best, the black kitten was surprised to hear the long-suffering sigh and the cocky, "Oh well, my dears, can't keep my brother on the edge. See ya later."  
  
Tugger lazily waved his admirers off, and strolled towards Quaxo, his walk as suave as his mien and manners.  
  
"Let's go, they're hanging on me like I was their life-line! It's quite exasperating!" The happy grin showed just how exasperating they really were, but the kitten chose to ignore it just for once, leading his friend to the tabby.  
  
"There you are! Where the hell have you been?"  
  
"Come on, Munku! It's not like you couldn't prepare for the ball without me!"  
  
"It's not the Ball! Heaviside, do you never listen? Old Deuteronomy said he'd heard rumours that Macavity was stirring up trouble throughout town! And Demeter had nightmares, said he was close, she sensed him!"  
  
"Oh, Everlasting Cat preserve us!" Tugger was sneering, clearly unimpressed, "Demeter sensed him! That queen would sense a trembling leaf and think it was Lucifer!"  
  
Quaxo looked at his friend, easily catching the current of concern he was so diligently masking.  
  
"He swore revenge! For his father's death and for Demeter! She was HIS, he regards her as his property still! Do you really think he'll let her stay just like that? Even Bomba's afraid of him and she of all queens is not easily scared!"  
  
Still Tugger refused to let his worry show, but Quaxo knew it was there, warring with his pride. So he stepped in and said,  
"So what shall we do, Munkustrap? Check throughout the junkyard? Border up all holes in the fence?"  
  
The tabby looked at him, smiling, "Yes, that's precisely what I had in mind and…we must keep the queens and other kittens close within the group. No one should roam about alone; if Macavity does appear, we must be together - that's the only way to fight him, the only way we stand a chance."  
  
Quaxo nodded, looking at Tugger and silently asking him to acquiesce and not to further wreak havoc on his brother's overtaxed nerves.  
  
"Alright, Munku, if you insist. But I tell you there's nothing to worry about."  
  
With that he stalked off, not waiting for a response.  
  
"I'll stay around him, make sure he does his job properly," the kitten whispered, brushing past the tabby.  
  
"Thanks Quaxo. Your help is very much appreciated. I'm glad there are some cats I can count on…"  
  
Nodding, the young tom went after Tugger, thinking about the implications; it was highly unlikely that Macavity, for all his ill repute, would tackle a whole junkyard full of Jellicles…yet something at the back of his mind wouldn't let him forget the image of darkness, of fear and of blood.  
  
Quaxo hummed along while he danced, feeling the music cursing through his body, filling his veins, guiding his every step. It was meant to be like this, a state of near-trance in which the Jellicles could come close to the power of the Everlasting Cat.  
  
Laughter bubbled up inside him as he thought back to the fears that had so much been a part of him when he first came to the junkyard and that were so far away now. Pouncival nudged him playfully and the two toms caterwauled madly, somersaulting across the open area, running wild.  
  
It was their night - their chance to be in the spotlight - Vic's would come later; now the rest of them was exhibiting their talents at the dances, mixing with the adults for a celebration of the glory inherent in every night the Jellicle moon shone.  
  
The evening passed in a flash, and Quaxo hardly noticed most of what was going on around him. Still, some things struck him - Demeter's eyes roaming around the yard at all times, keeping close to Munkustrap; the tension between the tabby and the queen, more than fear - concern and affection that couldn't be masked in the face of the threat; Bombalurina's failed attempts to keep Tugger's attention on her and Pouncival persistently following the red bombshell around…  
  
Colours mingled, flashed by Quaxo as he turned, jumped, bent and sang his heart out, enjoying the communion between the tribe, the togetherness mirrored in all their movements, their gestures and their sparkling eyes…  
  
Then chaos seemed to descend upon the yard. The music that had beat within their minds and bodies stilled; cats were looking around themselves, hoping that their chosen partner would come to them or advancing on him/her, only Vicky and Plato were moving purposefully towards the middle, both seeming a little nervous.  
  
Quaxo saw Pouncival out of the corner of his eye, seemingly disappointed - but suddenly he brightened up and nodded excitedly. Balancing on his front paws, the mottled tom advanced towards…Bombalurina?  
  
Quaxo's eyes widened, then he grinned. So his friend had gotten his dearest wish…and he, he would slink off to the sidelines where Munkustrap sat beside Deuteronomy and would, if the black kitten had interpreted the shy glances the tabby had received, soon be joined by Demeter.  
  
"Hey, Quax!" someone whispered and on turning, he came nose-to-nose with Electra, who was blushing slightly as she reached out to run her paw along his arm up to his shoulder, "wanna pair off with me…?"  
  
Nodding, since his mouth was too dry to speak, the black tom had no more time for thought, since his friend pulled him downwards, pinning him to the ground, giggling. Quaxo decided it might be best to close his eyes, he was embarrassed enough at the blatant display of possessiveness Electra suddenly put up…  
  
Soon all he could hear were quiet whispers, sighs and smothered giggles; the only voices he recognised in the blur the next hours became were Mungojerrie's and Rumpleteazer's and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what they were doing just then…  
  
Quaxo woke at dawn, feeling somehow burdened. He raised his head only to discover that all movement was hindered by Electra's body that lay sprawled across his own, pressing him to the ground.  
  
"She got ya, eh?" a cheeky voice breathed into his ear and he turned to find Pouncival's wry grin facing him.  
  
"Could say the same for you," he responded and his friend blushed slightly.  
  
"Didn't quite expect her to actually come to me, nor that she'd take the initiative!"  
  
"What can I say, same here," Quaxo said, sighing and pointing, somewhat awkwardly, at the young queen on top of him.  
  
"Etcy said Electra had a list of toms and you were somewhere on top."  
  
The black tom looked at his friend a little disbelievingly. The concept of a queen wanting…desiring - a slight shudder ran through him at the thought - _him_ of all cats was a bit hard to grasp…  
  
"So you two are grown-ups now…mmmhhhh?" a sleepy, low voice interjected and a red paw ran up Pouncival's side.  
  
Quaxo grinned openly at the other tom's obvious embarrassment at Bombalurina's gesture, but he soon found himself equally the object of very thorough examinations as Electra woke, stretching languidly.  
  
A satisfied grin plastered on her face, Jenny woke them all a few hours later, just as the sun had risen to throw warm rays of light on the yard.  
  
"What's she smiling at like that?" Pouncival murmured.  
  
"Didn't you see whom she caught?" Bombalurina's silky voice asked calmly, though a smirk was very much evident on her features and her eyes were sparkling with mischief.  
  
"Who?" Quaxo asked, and Electra chimed in, "Come on, who?"  
  
"Well, a certain tom who thinks a bit too much of himself was deserted by all available queens and fell prey to Jenny's considerable charm."  
  
"Tugger?"  
  
"You must be kidding!"  
  
"Look over at him and you'll see for yourself. His mane's rumpled, his eyes are glassy and if you look carefully you'll notice him brushing a few suspiciously orange hairs off his fur…"  
  
Electra dissolved into giggles and rubbed her cheek against Quaxo's shoulder, "Gotta go tell Etcy," she managed to get out before tumbling off.  
  
Since Pouncival favoured the red queen at his side with an adoring gaze just then, the black tom decided to make a run for it, before he got involved into any more embarrassment.  
  
"Munkustrap?"  
  
"Oh…Quaxo, did you have fun?"  
  
Though the tabby's eyes twinkled with mirth, his gestures betrayed a tired wariness and Quaxo answered, playfully swatting the elder's tail,  
"Oh, well, I hadn't thought El could be quite so forceful, but…yes!" he blushed scarlet, but didn't bother to hide his face - Munkustrap knew him too well anyway…  
  
"Great!"  
  
"What about you…been on the prowl the whole night?"  
  
"Just making sure all was quiet…"  
  
"Did you get any sleep at all?"  
  
"Yes. Deuteronomy and Demeter both insisted and I couldn't say 'no' to them…"  
  
"And now you're off again…"  
  
"I'm in charge of security here; and you never know with Macavity."  
  
Demeter padded up to them just then, her eyes haunted. Laying her paw on the tabby's arm she shook her head and sniffed the air,  
"He's close by, I'm sure of it."  
  
Munkustrap hugged her close a moment and disappeared into the shadows without another word. The queen looked after him wistfully and shuddered.  
  
"Whatever he did, you're safe here!" Quaxo said softly, hoping to ease her anxiety.  
  
"You don't know a lot about that tom, do you?"  
  
"Well…I heard stories…"  
  
"Stories? Quaxo, these 'stories' are nothing more than that, stories. Macavity - he's neither a devil nor a bloodthirsty monster. He's just…himself."  
  
The black tom looked at her, not quite understanding.  
  
"What makes him so dangerous is his cunningness. He plans his assaults weeks ahead, including all possible drawbacks. He'll strike when least expected…"  
  
"You're in awe of him, but you fear him as well…"  
  
"I was…with him for…a while. He was kind to me, very kind, Quaxo. I have no reason to…but… One night I heard him give the order for an… assassination. And then…I saw him…kill…one of his own…band. He just…cut…her throat with his…claws…"  
  
Quaxo shuddered. So this was the reason Demeter was so edgy. He had wondered, especially since El had recently heard the rumour that Bombalurina had once been Macavity's lover too - and she definitely was NOT as skittish as her friend…  
  
"Did you tell anyone?" Somehow it seemed like a very important question.  
  
"Bomba, Munkustrap, Deuteronomy and you. Even though I don't know why…"  
  
"I'll keep it a secret, promise," the black tom said, solemnly raising his paw.  
  
The young queen nodded, looking around fearfully before slipping back into the shadows.  
  
Quaxo stood still, very still, for there was something in the air, a darkness he had felt before and something else…something that scared him more than all bloodshed, and he shuddered involuntarily against the sudden chill that swept through his lean frame…  
  
Later that morning, Old Deuteronomy called all Jellicles together for a minute of quiet, of remembrance of those that had passed. This was, once again, a very traditional salute to the Everlasting Cat and those elders who had returned to her womb.  
  
Quaxo sat among the others quietly, Electra's paw on his knee and opened his senses to the calm contemplation of his friends. Now and then faces of loved ones long gone would flash past him - close enough to touch and then flicker away. He himself focused on the moment, for he could not remember any other time when he had felt more content with his place in the world, despite the fear that loomed at the edges of his mind.  
  
When Electra nudged him, he broke out of his reverie to find everyone's eyes fixed on old Gus, the theatre cat. He was almost blind and shivered constantly, but there was a defiance in his age, a solemnity and elegance that not even the years had broken.  
  
He told his story and Quaxo was drawn into it - he saw how forlorn the elder felt now that all his glory days were over and he was left with nothing but memories of the good times. It was easy to commiserate with the quiet tom and there was something telling him that he would be the one chosen to ascend to the Heaviside to be reborn with a notion of his former life.  
  
But one word of Gus' narration hung heavily on Quaxo's mind - it echoed steadily with a sense of darkness and foreboding: "fiend". The only other cat the young one had ever heard referred to as such was Macavity and that sent shivers down his spine.  
  
His movements were carefully concealed behind idle stretching as he edged towards the borders of the great assembly circle around the huge tire Old Deuteronomy had made his place. Quaxo just needed time on his own, the closeness of his tribe, his family suddenly oppressive and somehow tinged with a wrongness that he couldn't put his paw on.  
  
He lay in the shadows, far from his favourite spot in the burned out pipe, alone - faced with a stirring of anxiety about the next few hours that whispered to him as in warning _"You're not like them."_  
  
A deep, hollow laugh boomed through the junkyard, thrown back by the metal of the car hoods and ovens strewn about the assembly area and Quaxo's eyes snapped open. Dimly he realized that he must have been asleep, but that thought wouldn't stay in his mind for long - the sounds he heard too insistent to be ignored.  
  
It was a strange mixture of hissing and meowing, of moaning and sighing that assaulted his ears and his fur stood on end as he crept silently along towards the other cats, a shadow creeping through the shadows, hidden in the darkness.  
  
Poking his head out between an old mattress and a cupboard without drawers that had seen his best days half a century ago, he saw him for the first time - Macavity - the fiend he had heard so much about.  
  
He was a tall, well-built tom, with wild, bushy wisps of ginger and red fur that gave him the appearance of being stronger than he probably was though muscles were just visible now and then as he stood up straight in the light of the full moon, defying the startled cats beneath him with a steady look out of startlingly blue eyes.  
  
The light from the streetlamps mixed with a solitary spotlight that had been placed in the middle of the area to light the early evening gloom and tinged the junkyard with an eerie golden glow that reflected on Macavity's body, seemingly magnified by the bright fur.  
  
He was imposing and awe-inspiring and it could be no wonder that no one could take their eyes off him…except for Quaxo who was driven by Demeter's words _"He plans his assaults weeks ahead, including all possible drawbacks. He'll strike when least expected."_  
  
But wouldn't the whole tribe expect the assault now? Yes, everyone except for…Deuteronomy! Turning his eyes to the place where the old leader usually sat, the black tom saw three huge rats and two shaggy coated cats dragging him away…  
  
Just then Munkustrap looked around and jumped up, hissing, "They're catnapping Deuteronomy!"  
  
Tugger slunk off into the shadows at once, Mungojerrie glanced at Rumpleteazer who nodded as he followed the tribe's heartthrob and it was not long before almost all the toms had left the open area in pursuit of Macavity's minions. Quaxo, however, remained in his hiding place, his eyes fixed on the spot from where the ginger cat himself had disappeared in a matter of seconds…  
  
"Stay!"  
  
"Don't leave, stay here - we have to stay together!"  
  
Bombalurina's and Demeter's voices were laden with emotion - whether it was fright or worry the black tom could not discern as he looked at them calling the kittens together. The males kept at the sidelines but the females gathered around the two queens with wide eyes, innocently staring at them as they began to spin their tale of the mystery cat.  
  
It was as engrossing as the movements and gestures that revealed just how well Bombalurina and Demeter knew the ginger tom and how careful one had to be around him. It was not his brutality that seemed to scare them most of all, but his intellect - his flawless planning and determined action.  
  
Very little time passed - or so it seemed to Quaxo - before the elder toms returned, having found no sign of Deuteronomy. Only Mungojerrie and Tugger were missing and there was a tension that hung heavily in the air…  
  
The young black cat crept out of the shadows then and joined his friends in the circle the others formed to keep them safe - just in time it seemed for there was a hustle and something rustled behind the old oven at the far side of the area before a figure appeared. "Old Deuteronomy" someone whispered, but Quaxo was not able to believe it.  
  
His anxiety was obviously shared by Tantomile and Coricopat, the young twins who were known to possess certain powers no one was yet clear about, least of all themselves. They had sensed that the black tom was no ordinary cat, just as he had sensed that they had a special gift as well. Still, they had never exchanged more than a glance or a nod and had kept out of each others' way - it just didn't feel like it was the right time for them to speak.  
  
A low hiss beside him made Quaxo jump and he turned around to see Demeter shake her head, ears and tail twitching nervously, her claws extended and her eyes wide and haunted as she surveyed the other kittens walking towards Old Deuteronomy, followed by the elder cats.  
  
The black tom had no more time to contemplate the queen's obvious distress, however, for she pushed him away none too gently and rushed like a whirlwind towards the venerable leader, hissing and swiping at those who didn't move away from him at once when she approached.  
  
She earned more than one startled and angry glance but she didn't seem to care, focussing solely on the grey coat, striking out and burrowing her claws deeply in the shaggy fur, pulling hard…  
  
"MACAVITY!" the shriek came unanimously from everywhere and Demeter was still hissing, backing away - but not fast enough. The ginger tom grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, holding her close against his body while she squirmed, furiously lashing at him with all her might.  
  
Out of the corner of his eyes Quaxo saw Munkustrap, but he was closer and, without conscious thought he was running towards Macavity and Demeter, lounging himself at the large tom and throwing him off balance.  
  
It was enough for the young queen to break free and she fell to the ground beside Quaxo, shivering. He moved in front of her quickly and froze as his eyes met the mystery cat's blue ones.  
  
Recognition sparked in him as a voice whispered _"Let him go, if he can make it all alone on the streets he has earned his survival."_ It was a voice of long ago, a deep voice, tinged with a carelessness and steely undertone that so perfectly matched Macavity's…  
  
A slow smile spread across the ginger face as the tall cat mimicked a bow in Quaxo's direction, his eyes sparkling,  
"You have much of your mother, young one - not only her colour it seems."  
  
_Mother_ - how could that tom know of his mother, how could…looking up into those blue eyes again, a coldness swept across the young heart. He _knew_ that tom, had known him all his life it seemed - there was something so familiar, so very intimate about him…  
  
"Yes, little one, you have every reason to remember me," Macavity sneered as he lithely climbed a junk pile, just out of reach of the Jellicles who were advancing on him. Seemingly oblivious to the toms whose eyes were shining with rage, the ginger cat fixed his gaze on _that_ young one again,  
"Not so easy to forget your old man, ey, kit?"  
  
Demeter hissed again behind Quaxo, but he couldn't stop staring at the other tom as he slowly, dejectedly nodded.  
  
He did remember now - his mother's eyes that closed only moments after he had opened his; an old rugged queen who had taken care of him until Macavity had returned to his lair one day to find that he had a son. A son he didn't need or want. A son whom he left to fend for himself on the streets - a fair chance - instead of having him killed by one of his henchcats…  
  
Lightening flashed and Quaxo closed his eyes, blinded for a moment. "He's gone," it was Demeter who whispered in his ear, laying one paw on his shoulder. The black tom let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd held at her touch, welcoming the comfort. Suddenly there was a hiss, louder than the young queen's as someone pulled her away roughly, pushing Quaxo to the ground.  
  
"Alonzo!"  
  
Munkustrap sounded nothing short of angry - and the black tom shivered at the tone.  
  
"He's of Macavity's blood!"  
  
"That's NO excuse!"  
  
Silence fell at the exchange and Quaxo sat up straight, turning around to face the startled tribe. Most of them simply looked back, though a few averted their eyes and others hissed at him. Drawing into himself, the black tom dropped his gaze to the ground and slunk away, fleeing into the shadows out of which he had come not so long ago…  
  
It was a chilly night but Quaxo hardly noticed the coldness creeping into his bones - he was freezing slowly from the inside - as if swimming in the stream, desperately trying not to be submerged in the waves that lapped at him, pulling him down…  
  
"Hey!"  
  
It was a very quiet whisper, but to the black tom it sounded like a stroke of thunder and he shivered involuntarily again, refusing to open his eyes not wanting to acknowledge whoever had found him.  
  
"I just wanted to…tell you that…you're not alone…"  
  
Quaxo's eyes snapped open as he recognised the voice and he stared at the young queen in front of him open-mouthed. Had he just heard what he thought he'd heard?  
  
Electra seemed very much embarrassed and averted her gaze at once, but she moved closer, carefully rubbing her head against the black tom's.  
  
"ELECTRA!" Jenny's voice was loud and booming in the quiet of the night and the queen turned her head around abruptly. Facing Quaxo once more she gave his cheek a languid lick and nudged his nose gently before bounding away…  
  
Closing his eyes once again, the black cat sighed. At least someone still wanted to actually know him - to think that his place in the tribe could be so jeopardized by one single, undeniable fact…  
  
How could he have forgotten? He had been a very young kitten, but not all that young - and he had always been quick to know when he was not wanted… And then such a thing! Life on the streets hadn't been kind to him and survival from one day to the next surely was more important than remembering one's mother and father - especially when the latter hadn't even bothered to name him and just turned away…  
  
A rustle a little to his right caught the young tom's attention and he pricked up his ears, straining to make out the voices that neared his hiding place,  
"I wish I knew where he was hiding."  
  
"Macavity never mentioned any…queen or…a son of his…"  
  
"Tugger found Quaxo on the streets - a little bundle of fur, hardly alive - think that explains why that…bastard," the hiss was very audible in the chilly night air though the tone was otherwise quiet, "never thought of him."  
  
"What will happen now? Half the tribe's completely infuriated - he did _know_ Macavity was his father."  
  
The two cats had steadily come closer and Quaxo recognised them as Demeter and Munkustrap. Both of them were gazing around carefully, as if looking for something…or someone.  
  
"And they won't let him forget that fact, I'm sure. Fools! All that's happening will be a great dissent amongst the tribe - and that together with Old Deuteronomy's capture…"  
  
"That might have been Macavity's plan all along."  
  
"He was surprised to see Quaxo."  
  
"But he'll take advantage of this…coincidence now - he's very good at adapting his work to include any possibility that will bring him closer to success…"  
  
From the shadows the black tom saw the tabby nod grimly, his face starkly contrasted in the pale moonlight. Suddenly he sat down and looked around him, sniffing the air. His eyes fixed on the junk pile behind which the other cat was hiding and he sighed, his voice warm and soft as he said,  
"Come on out Quaxo. We've been looking everywhere for you."  
  
Shaking the fear off with a determined wriggle of his head, the black tom rose. There was no hiding from the tabby - he would simply sit there and talk at the pieces of junk until Quaxo appeared; Munkustrap was nothing if not patient…  
  
After he had squeezed through between a cardboard box and an old TV set, the young cat squared his shoulders and was just about to meet the tabby's eyes when he was pulled into a tight hug close to a warm female body,  
"I never got to properly thank you, Quaxo," Demeter whispered into his ear as she stroked his back.  
  
A paw fell onto his shoulder and Munkustrap intoned calmly, "You weren't planning to sleep there tonight, I hope. I got a spare blanket at my place. Come on now, I'm starting to freeze."  
  
The tabby did not mention the fact that Quaxo could sleep with his friends - he had set up his residence with Pouncival, Tumble, Plato and Admetus a while ago - or stay with Tugger for the night, but the black tom was very much conscious of the underlying _"They don't want you anymore," _that echoed in his head.  
  
Having dropped Demeter off at Bombalurina's home, the two toms made their way across the junkyard proper to where Munkustrap had settled in the boot of a rusty lorry. They remained silent and it was as if even the city's bustle had died down so the only sound in the air were their padding footsteps.  
  
Two shadows flitted across their view - Tantomile and Coricopat by the softly illuminated colourings but they never looked at them and the tabby chose not to greet them, just in case they would forgo the common politeness they owed to Quaxo and overlook him.  
  
A few cats were scattered around Munkustrap's place, but most of them retreated into the shadows as soon as they saw the black tom and there were a few hissing noises to be heard. Laying a paw on his friend's shoulder, the tabby urged him forward, his face complacent as if he had not noticed the reactions to Quaxo's appearance at all.  
  
Leaning against the once green lorry, Tugger exuded serenity even though his tail was swishing about, thumping onto the rusty metal now and then and his eyes were roaming the area restlessly. When he had caught sight of the black tom, he nodded and turned around, hushing off into the dark.  
  
Munkustrap couldn't stop the smirk that appeared on his face as he patted Quaxo's shoulder and mentioned, matter-of-factly,  
"You sure bring out the most responsible side of that brat - I've never seen such a blatant display of worry from him before."  
  
The young cat smiled, though the emotion didn't quite reach his eyes. He was tired, tired beyond anything and he felt alone and frightened. It had been so hard to find a place in the tribe and now…  
  
"We'll get some sleep and deal with everything tomorrow, 'kay?" the tabby couldn't quite stop the worry from tingeing his reassuring tone, but Quaxo rubbed his head against the elder's shoulder and gave a low purr to show how grateful he was.  
  
Softly pushing the other cat into his dwelling, Munkustrap turned around once more and faced the empty area in front of him, focusing on the blinking eyes in the shadows,  
"We'll discuss this _calmly_ tomorrow at noon. Jellicle assembly at the tyre. Those who don't come lose their voice in any discussions that arise from the meeting." Meaning: those who don't show up have no right to judge Quaxo after tomorrow. And the glowing eyes disappeared one by one, having understood the quiet threat inherent in the low voice…  
  
_Darkness surrounded him, he was swamped in swirling black and grey as tangible mists rose around him, binding him with subtle, snake-like bonds, holding him tightly. He struggled against them, silent, his voice broken by the void he felt deep inside, the lonely emptiness in his heart that constricted his throat. No one would come to help him, no one at all…  
  
Laughter boomed out in the darkness, a raw, harsh tone, tearing into his flesh like steely claws, tearing him apart. Golden sparkles rushed in front of his eyes and settled into a ginger frame - a red-and-orange figure looming above him, grinning and then turning around just as he stretched out his paws imploringly, asking for help - at least from his own father…  
  
But Macavity's back was to him and he heard, dimly "You are not worthy of them anymore and that makes you less than worthy for me." Tears ran down the white cheeks, matting the soft fur, streaks of silver ending in the darkness that was beneath him, around him, swallowing him and he was all alone…_  
  
"QUAXO!"  
  
_The bonds let him go and he snapped upwards, claws extended, hissing and lashing out at the fog around him…_  
  
Strong arms pushed him down, and a weight settled on his chest that held him firmly in place as he finally opened his eyes to gaze up at the grey tabby panting and shivering.  
  
"Had a nightmare - it's alright, Quaxo, you're safe here."  
  
Unable to speak the black tom shook his head, not quite believing he was really there, that the warmth at his back were faded rugs and that the tom holding him down was real, not a dream, but a cat like him - of flesh and blood…  
  
A warm drop landed on his face just then, and Quaxo stared at Munkustrap aghast, for the first time noticing the red marks of claws on the other's shoulder…  
  
"I…that…me…"  
  
The tabby sighed as he released him carefully and settled down beside him,  
"Don't worry, it's only a scratch - not unlike the ones Demeter gave me," seeing incomprehension and, yes, curiosity in the dark eyes that were fixed on him he grinned, slightly embarrassed, "she stays here when Bomb's not home, you know…as…friends…"  
  
"Because she doesn't want to be alone?" the voice was a hushed, awed whisper and Munkustrap nodded, a smile forming on his lips, "She feels better knowing someone is around her and I guess it's a good sign that she's not afraid of me…"  
  
Quaxo nodded, finally regaining control of his wayward heartbeat, "I'm sorry…"  
  
"It's nothing, really," then the tabby grew concerned, "it's quite late in the morning. I suggest we grab a quick breakfast before the meeting."  
  
"Will they…" it was hard to say it, but it was a question he had to ask, one that had haunted him from the moment he had seen the fear and disgust on the other cats' faces, "…throw me out?"  
  
"Not as long as I'm here."  
  
Though it was comforting to hear Munkustrap say that, the black tom knew there was too much at stake at the moment - that the tabby was needed to lead the tribe and couldn't allow his position to be weakened,  
"Maybe it would be better if I just…sort of …disappeared for a while. I mean, I don't wanna cause trouble - but no one will be happy if I stay and then they'll blame you…"  
  
"What're ya talkin' about 'ere? Leavin' the tribe just when we need ya? No way ya're gonna do that!" an indignant female voice sounded from behind them and Munkustrap grinned as he nodded his head in agreement.  
  
"If the Jellicles can put up wi' us, they'll 'ave no trouble at all wi' ya!" Mungojerrie added as he squeezed himself into the half-opened trunk that was hung with a formerly blue rug to keep out the wind.  
  
"Aye, that's true." Rumpleteazer looked up from where she sat beside the tabby cleaning his shoulder, though he had shaken his head at her mumbling something about the 'unnecessary fussing of queens'.  
  
"You didn't happen to…ahem…get…something to eat for us?" Munkustrap asked, mischief dancing in his voice, though his tone remained steady and serious.  
  
Quaxo glanced at him and at Mungojerrie who produced a half-empty tin of tuna with a flourish, grinning from ear to ear and heard the giggle Rumpleteazer was trying to smother by burying her face into the tabby's fur.  
  
He couldn't help but laugh then - just laugh outright, for no particular reason at all it seemed as he flung himself at his friends, trying to hug all three of them. He was almost hysteric just then, as he realized that he was not alone, not like he had been, because there were some cats who cared for him and would stand by him no matter what.  
  
"Now come on 'ere, Quax. Ya're makin' me feel all mushy," the calico whispered almost hoarsely as his mate brushed her paw against the black tom's cheek and Munkustrap cleared his throat in a desperate attempt to seem unconcerned.  
  
A loud booming knock on top of the trunk startled them all, bringing them to their senses. Shaking slightly and feeling giddy with joy as well as frustrated and frightened at the same time, Quaxo sat back and shook his head, reigning in his emotions with difficulty.  
  
"Munk, you home?"  
  
Another clearing of his throat and the tabby answered in a steady voice (though the tone was decidedly softer than his usual one), "Of course, come right in Bomba."  
  
A red paw drew back the rug and Demeter and her friend looked in on the little group. Their faces were sober and serious as they motioned for them to come outside. Complying with a frown, the tabby rose and exited his domain, closely followed by the calicos and Quaxo.  
  
They came face to face with the whole Jellicle tribe, some lingering at the sidelines, obviously unsure of what they ought to do while the elders and a few of the youngest adults formed a tight group, their eyes cold as they stared at the black tom.  
  
Within moments, the tabby had risen to his full height, standing tall and proud, glaring at the assembly, "We were to meet at _noon_."  
  
"We don't have that much time," it was Jenny who spoke up, not quite meeting Munkustrap's gaze, "we must deal with the…problem…right now and then concentrate on more important things - like finding Old Deuteronomy."  
  
"I don't see any problem at all," there was an icy edge to the calm voice, but the orange tabby only shook her head.  
  
"There is a problem. We have one amongst us who is closely…associated with…Macavity." She whispered the name, fear and awe mixing with disgust.  
  
"Then let us clear the air by all means," the tabby looked around him, suppressing a sigh. He had hoped it wouldn't come to that - one night of rational thinking ought to have done its work…  
  
Quaxo shivered involuntarily again. He wanted to bolt just then, to turn his back on the silent, unresponsive group that was so much afraid of him and hated him so much just for a name that marked his ancestry. He couldn't quite understand them - but then again - what would he have done…his thoughts raced as he stepped forward, willing his paws to move.  
  
Standing beside Munkustrap, he nudged his friend gently in the side and took a deep breath when he received a curt nod telling him to proceed,  
"I don't want to hide behind others," Jenny stared at him and he quickly averted his eyes, "I don't really know what has changed, why you can't trust me. Ma…Macavity's just a name - I thought you knew me and…liked me…"  
  
Quaxo blinked back tears and straightened up - he would NOT cry, nor would he beg them to accept and respect him. There were cats who had not asked for anything in return for their friendship - and these were the ones that counted - he was worthy enough of their love…  
  
"But I won't beg. If you don't want me then say so - to my face - tell my WHY I'm so suddenly unworthy of being a Jellicle - tell me WHAT I did. Because I don't know of anything - unless you want to make a crime out of my forgetting a family I never had - one that forsook me when I was too little to even clearly remember them."  
  
The tears were stinging his eyes now and Quaxo turned on his heels, fleeing from the other cats, rushing past them, hiding in between the junk, wanting to be held back and wishing for nothing more than a quiet place to sleep, to simply lie and drown out the memory of these looks with drowsy forgetfulness…  
  
Hours later, when the sun already tinged the horizon with a gloomy red, Quaxo settled down inside his favourite pipe. There was no feline sound to be heard, probably the rest of the tribe had scattered, deserting the assembly area around the big tyre.  
  
It was quiet, except for the muffled hustle and bustle of the city beyond the junkyard gates that had become so much part of his life that he barely noticed it any longer. As he thought about the events of the last two days, he asked himself why he hadn't offered to bring Old Deuteronomy back with his powers - and why Tugger hadn't suggested it, or Munkustrap.  
  
He almost smiled when the silent answer reverberated through his mind, _"It is your decision - and you want them to like you for what you are, not for what you can do."_ And naturally his adopted brothers would respect his choice. Or maybe they hadn't even thought about it. The tabby had forgotten in all probability - he surely didn't know all too much of the tricks he had learned over the past months.  
  
And Tugger…maybe he didn't trust his friend anymore? A stab of pain flashed through the young tom as he contemplated the possibility. After all, the tribe's heartthrob had not even seemed overly concerned when he spoke up that morning. It might not have been an unusual occurrence, since he preferred to keep quiet in serious matters, not letting his emotions show - but still, it was a sort of negligence that hurt.  
  
A rustling alerted Quaxo and he stared into the gloom of dusk at Electra as she emerged from behind a large junk pile.  
  
"El!"  
  
Pouncival sat on top of his favourite chair, hailing her but she didn't turn back. Grimacing, the mottled tom jumped down from his seat, tumbling to the ground in an undignified heap and racing up to her,  
"You shouldn't be out alone, you heard what Jenny said."  
  
"Oh yes, I did. And that's precisely why I am here."  
  
"I wasn't talking about Quaxo."  
  
"But she sure was."  
  
"She's only an old queen, she'll calm down."  
  
Electra chose to stop now to favour Pouncival with a chilling look, "You don't seem overly concerned for Quaxo, it seems."  
  
Shrugging, the young tom replied, "I'm not his sweetheart, and I don't go looking for him. I wouldn't want to be found if I were him."  
  
Hissing, the queen lashed out at him and he jumped back, crouching low and baring his teeth, "Don't do that again!"  
  
"You just don't care! You're worse than Tumble - he at least has an opinion he can stand up for."  
  
With that she turned around on her heels and stalked away, leaving the mottled tom lying on the ground, still stunned.  
  
Quaxo watched silently, glad that the wind had turned during the day so his scent wouldn't give him away. He didn't want to explain himself - all he wanted was a bit of peace, a little warmth. But it didn't seem as if he would get that.  
  
Though it had seemed as if Electra was on his side. He softly touched the cheek she had licked the evening before and a slow smile formed on his features.  
  
When the black tom broke out of his fond reverie, he noticed that Pouncival was still sitting in the middle of the assembly area, frowning. It would have been comical at every other time - of all the kittens he had been the least serious and there he was, obviously deep in thought.  
  
Shaking his head, the mottled tom jumped up suddenly, brushing his fur off half-heartedly with his tail and marching off, head held high as if he were trying out for the human military. Stifling a giggle despite the despairing mood he was in, Quaxo laid his head onto his front paws, intending to doze a bit, hoping against hope that he would come up with a solution for the whole mess.  
  
"Misto?"  
  
The black tom jumped to his paws at once, forgetting about the pipe's size and hitting his head hard, "Ouch!"  
  
A golden face appeared at the opening, upside down and blocking out the light, "Thought I'd find you here."  
  
Nonchalantly as if he were proposing a game of catch, Tugger jumped off the pipe and sat down in front of it, blocking the exit. Quaxo hissed low in his throat, trying not to show how much he was afraid of what the elder tom might have to say to him.  
  
"Did Munkustrap send you?" It was an accusation spat out in a small voice - one that the speaker fervently hoped wasn't true.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Quaxo drew himself tightly together, pressing his back against the cold metal of his pipe. So he hadn't come to talk to him of his own free will - not even that much. And to think that he so much depended on Tugger's good opinion, still wanted his approval. A tear slipped down his cheek, unnoticed in the darkness that surrounded him.  
  
"Come out of that damn thing, I can't talk to you when I don't even see you."  
  
"Just tell me what Munku wants and leave then."  
  
The black tom heard something that sounded suspiciously like a sigh as the other cat continued,  
"Everlasting Cat! What do you think I am? The tabby knight's messenger? Really, _Misto_, come out of there!"  
  
It was more the use of his still-secret name that drew Quaxo out of his hiding place but he stubbornly refused to meet Tugger's eyes as he lay down at the entrance to the pipe, his head just barely in the open air.  
  
"That's more comfy…now can we talk?"  
  
"Go ahead," the black tom couldn't quite keep the pain out of his voice.  
  
"Munk said I was to cheer you up but…I have no idea how." Was that defeat in the slightly mocking tone? "I'm…you know I'm not really sure what to say. Munk's much better at that. He's comforting - though I really don't know how he manages with a face like that."  
  
Quaxo's smile was hidden by his front paws, but Tugger didn't look at him anyway, seemingly oblivious to the little jab that was so natural to him when speaking of his brother.  
  
"I guess I should…" he mumbled something that was, even to the black tom's sensitive ears, totally unintelligible and then sighed, "…apologize." If there was a word that sounded strangled and unreal from Tugger's lips it was this one.  
  
Not responding, Quaxo lay quietly, the tip of his tail twitching nervously as he tried to process what he was hearing.  
  
"What I mean is that…I ought to…have been there…like Munk. Oh damn, I'm your brother!"  
  
The wide open dark eyes were a stark contrast in the white face as the young tom opened his mouth and closed it again moments later, surprised. Silence fell heavily between them until Quaxo finally managed to get out the words, "You are…"  
  
"…your brother."  
  
"But you are Munk's brother and Munk is Deuteronomy's son!" Confusion warred with the warmth of acceptance that issued from Tugger's words - but wariness was counselled by the many rejections he had faced of late.  
  
"Tss…sure - we all know who has more of the old tom's genes now, don't we? Cut it out now, kit - we're family. Munk and I kinda adopted you - we're responsible for you and…"  
  
Looking at the evening shadows playing on the pale face in front of him, the elder cat sighed, turning his eyes heavenward and grabbing Quaxo's paw. He pulled him up and straight into a tight hug, hoping that no one would see the gesture and not really caring at the same time. A sniffle sounded from somewhere in his mane and Tugger smiled softly as he whispered into the nearest black ear,  
"Big kits don't cry."  
  
Instead of an answer, Quaxo pulled back slightly, grinning though his eyes were still huge and there was a lingering sadness in them.  
  
"I was thinking of crashing in on Munk's dinner - how's that sound?"  
  
"Race you!"  
  
The black tom jumped to his feet lithely, rushing towards the tabby's domain, followed closely by a cursing heartthrob whose immaculately brushed mane was just a little ruffled and tangled by the soft rain that had set in…  
  
A distinct mumble alerted both Tugger and Quaxo that they were not the only ones who had sought out Munkustrap. They stopped dead in their tracks and, exchanging a short glance, opted for a dignified (except for the elder tom's wind-blown fur) walk towards the little group the tabby was facing.  
  
Quaxo straightened his shoulders, resolved to go through with whatever would come up now - he was tired and he didn't really want anything but a good long rest, preferably cuddled up between Munkustrap and Tugger - at least these two still cared about him.  
  
Weariness was creeping into his frame again, following the elation of discovering that his closest companion truly loved him for what he was. Suddenly his path was blocked by Jenny who looked at him out of wary, uncertain eyes.  
  
The black tom stopped, keeping a good distance between them, afraid she might lash out at him if he came too close. But, to his surprise, she didn't even hiss at him but, looking around her, held out her paw to him silently.  
  
Unsure of how to respond, since he wasn't yet convinced that Jenny, the queen who had railed against him above all, would so soon and so unexpectedly offer him a truce, Quaxo simply stared at the orange tabby out of wide, dark eyes.  
  
"Won't let me off, now, will you…rascal," she mumbled and stepped closer, drawing the young tom into an embrace.  
  
A mumbling ran through the group as Jenny turned around and said, her tail brushing the floor in quick sweeps - a sure sign of her nervousness,  
"I…was…told that my…behaviour was hysteric earlier tonight and…the same…someone…asked me to give Quaxo a…chance since he hasn't really done anything and…since I'm the one…preaching not to make…hasty judgements…"  
  
"Well, well…ain't that news…" Tugger intoned, shaking his head and bristling his ruffled mane.  
  
"Tugger!" Munkustrap didn't sound exactly pleased - though it was hard to say whether it was his brother's rudeness or Jenny's sudden change of mind that exasperated him.  
  
Since Quaxo didn't seem inclined to say anything and simply stared at Jenny open mouthed, the tabby continued,  
"I can't quite understand the whole thing - but there is one thing I know: we have to find Old Deuteronomy and we have to do it as quickly as possible. Now, I see that we are, as a tribe, stronger in braving the odds and that is why I think we should consider this problem together… ALL of us."  
  
"Right…and where do we start?" Skimble asked, scratching his head.  
  
"I suggest we sleep on it first of all - we've had a hard day, and we're all riled up. We should meet TOMORROW morning. Those who agree on this, please raise their paws."  
  
If not for the slight weariness in his tone, Munkustrap didn't betray his fear or anxiety. He was, after all, not used to actually being in the position of leading the whole tribe…  
  
Quaxo, still a little unsure of what to attribute Jenny's friendliness to, slowly raised his paw. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Tugger do the same, and Bombalurina and Demeter followed only moments later.  
  
The majority being in favour of a bit of rest, Alonzo and Admetus dispersed the group, and Quaxo watched them leave, wondering still and also a little nervous. He had seen none of the younger cats - except for Plato - amidst the gathering, nor had Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer been there and Tantomile and Coricopat were nowhere to be seen either.  
  
A paw fell onto his shoulder and the black tom shivered, turning around abruptly, coming nose to nose with…Jenny.  
  
"You're on trial, remember that," she whispered and he nodded, interpreting the underlying threat as a warning. It felt eerily good to know that the elder queen hadn't really changed her mind completely, though it made him all the more curious to know how she had come to actually give him a chance at all…  
  
"Why…why have you decided to…" he didn't know how to go on - the word 'trust' didn't really fit in the context, for there was nothing but wariness in Jenny's eyes and tone, her actions more of a peace offering than the actual meaning of her words.  
  
"It wasn't Electra, if you think that. She's a stubborn little thing and she might just as well have a crush on you…but her attitude is not…"  
  
"So who was it?" Tugger cut her off in mid-sentence, laying his arm across Quaxo's shoulder, standing tall beside the smaller tom.  
  
"Pouncival."  
  
And Jenny turned on her heels, marching off into the shadows, displeasure written across her face and anxiety into her every movement.  
  
Tugger whistled low in his throat, "Who'd have thought…I never gave him credit for having much of a brain…"  
  
Quaxo didn't even bother to nod. Of all his friends - to find Pouncival so loyal was a surprise. It wasn't so much the fact that no one saw him as a great thinker - it was merely that the black tom knew he wasn't much inclined to state his opinion or to stand up it…nor was he open when it came to his feelings…  
  
Quaxo didn't sleep very well that night, even though he was sandwiched between Munkustrap and Tugger and couldn't complain about being cold - despite the chilly wind that swept across the deserted junkyard, echoing loudly.  
  
He was thinking hard - and there was a voice inside his head - calling, demanding to be heard. The voice of the one cat he definitely didn't want to think about…his father.  
  
It was a subtle pull, but Quaxo knew that Macavity could not have done as much if he hadn't had some sort of magical powers himself. And that scared him, beyond anything. Maybe, just maybe, he had inherited this gift from the ginger tom - maybe it was something bad - maybe it couldn't ever be thoroughly controlled…  
  
For all that he knew he might be a ticking bomb, ready to explode, endangering his friends. The nausea that he had felt when he had been attacked in that back street, the fear and doubts returned - but there was nothing inside him that said "No" this time - he was lost in his anger and pain.  
  
And it was not a pain inflicted on his body, one that could heal. It was a deeper scar, self-loathing born of the ignorance of who he truly was, what he could do and when he would do it.  
  
Munkustrap muttered something in his sleep, turning around and a spotted paw reached out to gently pat the grey head. Tugger's eyes opened slightly, and he looked straight at Quaxo, a smirk barely visible in the darkness.  
  
The black tom understood - it would be another of their little secrets - no one ought to know there was a soft spot to the arrogant heartthrob - otherwise his reputation would be sorely ruined.  
  
But not even this display of affection was enough to take away the fear, in fact, it made Quaxo even warier of himself. How could he, after all that Tugger and Munkustrap had done for him, after their standing up for him make sure they weren't hurt?  
  
For all he knew it might be one wrong step and he could lose control. It didn't seem likely, since he had practiced with his powers, but then again - with the knowledge of who his father was, and the feeling of magic that the ginger tom's aura emanated…  
  
A thought formed in the back of Quaxo's mind then and he knew that it was the only way - at least for the moment. There was no turning back - he would just have to hope that the trust his friends had in him would hold true even when he was…gone.  
  
Continued in Mastering the Magic of Life - Part II...  



	2. Part II

Author: Triskell  
Summary: Misto's life story...  
Rating: PG-15, some scenes are bordering on (emotional turmoil)  
Disclaimer: The Jellicle Cats belong to TSE, ALW & RUG. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is mine.  
  
AN: A great big thank you goes to Deirdriu for betaing part of the story. It's highly recommended that you've read Mastering the Magic of Life - Part I before you start with this ;D.

* * *

**MASTERING THE MAGIC OF LIFE - PART II **  
© Triskell, October 2000/January, February/March 2001  
  


**Dedicated to Syl, with Misto Sparkles & Quaxo Hugs**

* * *

When Tugger stretched himself out the next morning, he was alone with Munkustrap, the black tom who had slept between them vanished. There was no trace of him anywhere and though neither of them could understand what was going on, they had little choice but to focus on more pressing concerns.  
  
The whole tribe had assembled to discuss Deuteronomy's catnapping - and the possible ways to find and rescue him. Even Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were there, lingering at the sidelines and all of the kittens sat in a little group, closely guarded by Skimble, Plato and Admetus, Jenny's watchful eye on them.  
  
Quaxo saw it all, hidden in his pipe. It had been easier than he had thought to disperse his scent and to create the illusion of a dark, empty space when Tugger had come to look for him there.  
  
A lonely sadness was beginning to weave itself around the young tom's heart, but he kept his tears in check, silently watching and listening to the discussions, the calls, the loud cries - hisses and threatening gestures, curses…it all became a blur, as his eyes focused on the mottled red queen whose gaze seemed far away as she sat beside her friends.  
  
Electra didn't seem to hear what was going on around her - and she wouldn't budge when the assembly dispersed, having finally agreed on forming search parties to comb the city, every district, especially the seedier ones until they had found a trace of the Jellicle leader.  
  
Munkustrap and Tugger where quietly whispering, Bomba and Demeter stood close by and the two calicos where approaching them, quietly until Mungojerrie spoke up, almost timidly,  
"We'd like ta 'elp too. We know some of the bad parts o' town and we can go there and 'ave a look…"  
  
The tabby looked at them and smiled, though the emotion didn't seem to reach his eyes,  
"That would be much appreciated. But you have to promise to be careful… I'll…"  
  
"No need ta come wi' us or send anyone else. They don't want us, and that's fine - we'll just keep it down and tell ya once we find somethin'."  
  
"I'll come with you."  
  
"Me too."  
  
Bombalurina and Demeter seemed determined and Munkustrap, though he opened his mouth, closed it again, nodding. Tugger spoke up though and Quaxo was surprised to detect the edge in his voice - and the concern,  
"That's not a good idea. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer at least know these parts - you don't. And neither Munk nor I can go with you…we have to keep with the others…"  
  
It was clear that he wasn't exactly pleased about having to roam town with certain cats, but since his brother had asked him not to make a scene he had, for once, kept his thoughts to himself and acquiesced.  
  
"I've spent quite some time in these seedy parts of town - and I will do whatever I can to help get Deuteronomy back."  
  
Referring to Macavity, Quaxo thought as he looked at the slight shiver that ran through Demeter's frame. Bombalurina nodded and motioned for the calicos to come along with them. The four cats trotted off and Munkustrap sighed heavily, just as he saw Electra, who hadn't moved an inch from where she had sat all along.  
  
"Electra - is there something you need?"  
  
"Where is Quaxo?"  
  
Tugger exchanged a glance with his brother and then looked around him carefully before laying his paw on his lips,  
"He's…off to do some research into Old D's disappearance - we're not supposed to tell, ya know. He'll be back as soon as he finds out something…"  
  
It was an outright lie, of course, but Quaxo couldn't help smiling as he thought of how close the other tom had hit the mark - and how protective he was of him…  
  
Quaxo walked through the side streets, keeping in the shadows, a silent observer who remained unobserved by other cats and pollicles. The black tom was concentrating hard on making himself as invisible as could be - masking his scent in the wind and steering clear of anything he could run into and make a noise.  
  
It was a hard thing to do, but the only way to keep himself out of trouble. He didn't trust himself in a fight - and while he was so intent on hiding his presence, he also had precious little time for thoughts…and doubts.  
  
He didn't want to remember Electra, neither her eyes nor her warmth, and he brushed his brothers' images away again and again, afraid of the stab of pain that accompanied each glimpse of love, trust and friendship since his own insecurity wouldn't quite let him believe he was what they thought he was…  
  
Quaxo's anxiety increased with nightfall, as did his hunger and tiredness. Yet he went on, feeling he was near the end of his journey, though he had no idea where this end was.  
  
The streets were no longer in any way familiar to him and the strays he had passed seemed more rugged, bolder and fiercer than any he had ever seen. But his cover was perfect and he didn't encounter any problems…until he stood, motionless, in front of a huge warehouse, imposing and dark in the shadows of dusk.  
  
The scent of dirt, rotting rat corpses and polluted water assailed his sensitive nose and he wished, not for the first time, he were away from this nightmare, in his human's arms or lying sheltered between his brothers back at the junkyard.  
  
A soundless noise that reverberated through his mind rather than his ears caused him to turn around abruptly. He could hardly make out the shadows coming towards him in the setting twilight, but he just knew who they were and acknowledged them with a curt nod, hoping not to seem too insecure as his heartbeat increased.  
  
_You sensed it. So did we. We are not sure if we can trust you entirely, but we have little choice - so let us go in together._  
  
There was nothing but sincerity in the open eyes that appeared before him and honesty rang in the two voices echoing in his mind. Quaxo nodded and slowly made his way back into the darkest shadows, closely followed by Tantomile and Coricopat.  
  
The three of them shrouded themselves in darkness, each of them having mastered the art of prowling soundlessly in their own way. Quaxo masked his very presence, Tantomile blurred the edges of her and her brother's bodies to mingle with the darkness and Coricopat dimmed the sounds of their paws and their breathing.  
  
There was no door that they could see, but their instincts told them that this building held what they sought and so they pressed on, creeping around the warehouse until they finally found an iron door that hung a little off its hinges - just enough for a slim cat to wriggle through.  
  
Sniffing into the darkness and finding no trace of other cats - or pollicles, or rats - about, they squeezed into the opening one after the other, making hardly a noise, save for the creaking of the metal and the subtle brush of their fur against the cold steel.  
  
By unspoken agreement they ventured further into a darkness that would have been impenetrable for human eyes. They were in a room that spanned the whole surface area of the building, and loomed up above them for metre upon metre, sharply ending high up, past the iron bars and barriers that held the pointed roof.  
  
There were many smells around them - soil and sweat and dust, moss and musk all intermingled to a ghastly odour that almost took their breath away. Though they still sought to hide each sound they made, the echo in the hall took up even the quietest rustle and magnified it until it seemed to hollow in their ears for all that it was no more than a whisper in the stillness.  
  
Nothing moved around them, only dark shapes, covered with ever darker cloths and broken crates, bearing inscriptions they didn't understand stood like towers in the vast expanse.  
  
Keeping close the towering walls, the three cats made a circuit of the hall, sniffing until they detected a well-known, very subdued scent. Three pairs of knowing eyes looked upwards and together they laid their paws on the iron pillar and began to climb - upwards, upwards, and still further upwards, till they reached the topmost bars under the roof.  
  
The twins kept their gaze firmly on the iron construction beneath their paws, but Quaxo looked about him, even downwards into the silent darkness that seemed to beckon him to jump into its never ending, painless embrace.  
  
The hurt and confusion he had pushed away the whole day was returning now and his self-doubts were increased as he watched the mystical cats move efficiently across the expanse, nothingness beneath them, only their purpose pushing them forward.  
  
He wanted to be like them, to believe so unflinchingly in his own worth and abilities, for they were not afraid as much as determined and they trusted in themselves and their strength. The serenity emanating from them was palpable and Quaxo let it wash over him, battling against the fear inside him, the little voice that laughed at him and said he might kill them with one misstep of his own, one injudicious use of his powers…  
  
But the twins' steadiness and his own wish to bring this to a close were stronger even than this pained disconcert and the black tom went after the two of them, edging steadily closer to a little platform where a big linen sack was tied to a pillar.  
  
The cloth left only enough room for a shaggy grey head that was illuminated by the ghostly light of the moon that filtered through a tiny crack just above and to the left of the bound figure.  
  
Deuteronomy didn't speak as they approached, but his eyes roamed across them and he smiled wearily.  
  
Still there was no sound at all from the hall beneath them, a gaping quiet kept them all huddled together here and each of their thoughts echoed loudly in their minds.  
  
Quickly, the twins moved forward, untying the old Jellicle and Quaxo, unsure of what to do just watched as they helped the grey tom out of the sack, steadying him for he swayed badly on his feet.  
  
"Can you lower him to the ground?"  
  
Quaxo jumped when he suddenly heard Coricopat's voice again, this time in a whisper that was magnified and still echoed loudly, rushing through his ears and drowned out only by his rapid heartbeat when he finally understood the request.  
  
It wasn't something he had ever done, yet the black tom knew he probably was capable - it was the magnitude of the implications that came with the question that made him shake his head and lick his dry lips.  
  
He might let Deuteronomy fall, and what then? It seemed as if the twins couldn't levitate the old tom and he would surely not survive the impact on the stone floor and then he'd be a murderer and he'd be like…his father.  
  
Tears welled up in the dark eyes and he shook his head again, mumbling, "I'm sorry."  
  
"You must do it. We can't lift him and he won't make it down on his own paws."  
  
"We don't have ropes to lower him either - and carrying him on our backs is out of the question…"  
  
The twins' voices were urgent, but Quaxo kept on shaking his head, fearing his own failure more than ever before. Never had he truly had a life entrusted to him and in his present state of mind he couldn't think of any reason for actually being given so much responsibility.  
  
"They're coming and this is the only way."  
  
"We trust you, Quaxo."  
  
Tantomile and Coricopat looked at him, and still he shook his head, unable to let them believe, even for a moment, that he was capable - for he didn't believe enough in himself…he couldn't trust himself with this…  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, kits, but I can say from the bottom of my heart that I have no reason to doubt either of you and that I trust you with my life - freely - regardless of the situation we find ourselves in. However, if you can't take me, then leave me here - it would be better you were not found by Macavity."  
  
_Macavity_. The name thundered through Quaxo's veins and he shuddered, involuntarily. Tantomile and Coricopat exchanged a long glance and then steadied Deuteronomy, dragging him towards the nearest pillar.  
  
The black tom watched silently as they bade the Jellicle leader hold onto their shoulders tightly as they stepped onto the steel construction, the old tom between them, trying to get a hold of the metal with his hind paws.  
  
They could not make the descent like that - and all of them knew it - except for Deuteronomy, who seemed a little beside himself still, weaker and heavier than usual.  
  
Quaxo watched them move with a horrified fascination, curiosity warring with disgust at his own fear and weakness that had brought the twins to this. Time stood still for a moment and then Coricopat slipped, grabbing the metal bars hard, his claws making a screeching sound on the steel surface as he lost hold.  
  
Deuteronomy's heavy body swayed backwards, his paw grasping frantically for the younger tom's shoulder that had so suddenly vanished from beneath it, but Tantomile pulled him hard against the pillar, shivering as she saw her brother fall - silently…  
  
Quaxo's eyes widened with terror and he gaped, immobile, his fear rising like the bile in his throat. What it was that made him reach out with his paws he never knew, nor could he have explained the clarity that swept away his doubts, the bright warmth that enveloped his pain and dulled it to the point where he felt it no longer.  
  
An audible gasp and the black tom seemed to go out of himself, to actually _be_ in another body that swayed slightly as the hind legs touched the cold concrete of the warehouse floor. The light diminished somewhat and Quaxo opened his eyes, only to find the tips of his paws glowing in a strange, soft green glow, unlike the reddish or blue tinge they held when he threw lightening bolts or made small objects disappear…  
  
_You saved him._ It was an awed whisper that touched his mind, though the voice seemed alien to Quaxo of a sudden - yet he knew the tone, the speaker.  
  
"I'm slipping…"  
  
Deuteronomy's deep bass was hushed in the echoes of the great hall, but the black tom heard him and gently caught the old cat as he sacked, losing grip of the pillar, bearing him downwards, concentrating on holding the weight without conscious thought. It seemed as if someone else were thinking for him, directing his powers and the subtle movements of his paws as he steered his heavy load to the ground safely.  
  
Nausea overtook him again then and the moment just after he had felt another's paws touching the floor as if they were his own, he crumpled down, breathing harshly, his head swimming. The light receded and darkness took over - fear of what had possessed him only moments before, pain creeping from his heart into his limbs, a weariness that rolled across him and left him burning, then empty.  
  
A dark paw fell onto his shoulder and a voice mumbled into his ear, soothing him as his head and back were stroked gently. Someone swept the shadows away a little, just enough for Quaxo to draw breath a little and his trembling subsided.  
  
His blurred vision cleared, focusing on Tantomile's face, her jaw set tightly and determinedly,  
"We must go. I'll steady you."  
  
It was an order that he couldn't disobey and though his legs were shaking so badly he hardly knew how to move on them, the queen led him towards the pillar, holding him tightly and forcing him to set one paw and then the other on the cold metal which sent a chill right to his bones.  
  
Conscious thought ceased and so did the world around the black tom, as he focused on the iron and steel and on each step, never questioning what he did and hardly feeling the bruising grip his companion had of his neck.  
  
It seemed eternity passed them as they climbed down and once safely on the ground, Quaxo let himself fall, shivering, closing his eyes. Someone shook him, but it was only a hard slap across his face that broke the haze of his swoon.  
  
"Concentrate - they're close and if we're not careful they'll catch us. I need you. I can only mask my body, not the sounds I make and not my scent."  
  
Tantomile's voice was strong, urgent and she somehow managed to penetrate Quaxo's weakening hold on reality. Still quivering, he nodded, focusing, knowing that he could not let her down - that he had only trying left - and not caring about failing with his powers anymore.  
  
He might kill her, but he had no choice - not now, for her life depended on him already, there wasn't much of a difference.  
  
It was hard to keep his mind from straying and even harder to mask their presence the closer they came to the crack in the iron door. Once they had slipped through it, they hid in the shadows, just in time as the small band of strays disengaged from in between the crates opposite them, striding towards the warehouse.  
  
They had little time left to bolt and they took advantage of the cloud that passed over the moon to dash away from the building, racing into side streets and out, oblivious to time, the shadows around them the only certainty, the only security.  
  
Quaxo wouldn't have found his way back to the junkyard, but Tantomile guided him, as if she were drawn towards it herself, by a power that the black tom couldn't sense or touch.  
  
The streets were more familiar to him already, when they ran headfirst into Coricopat and Deuteronomy, both exhausted and panting. It took a while for Quaxo to realize that the twins had been using their own strength to fuel both his and the old leader's, making them go faster than their state would have permitted.  
  
Now they were all tired and worn and still they were not safe…  
  
"Everlastin' Cat!" The cockney accent sounded like music to the weary cats as Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer, Demeter and Bombalurina ran up to them.  
  
It took them only a moment to ascertain what they had to do and while Mungojerrie and Bombalurina took charge of Deuteronomy, the other two queens grabbed Tantomile, Coricopat and Quaxo, pulling them along behind them.  
  
It took them a while yet to get to the entrance gate of the junkyard, where Jenny stood on a watch post, calling out to the others that their leader had returned.  
  
Everyone was throwing themselves at the old tom it seemed, the brightly coloured fur surrounding him and his companions becoming a blur for Quaxo who stood stock-still, amazed that his legs still managed to keep him upright. Demeter's grip on his arm relaxed a little when they were both drawn into a tight embrace.  
  
The black tom noticed the familiar scent and the grey fur in his eyes thoroughly convinced him of who was holding them. Finally being released, he looked up at his brother, and cringed slightly at the sight of a drawn face sporting a few deep scratches, as did the rest of the tabby's body.  
  
"Quaxo!"  
  
The squeal would have done Etcy proud - but Electra hardly noticed the stares she received as she pushed aside any cat standing in her way to fling herself at the black tom with full force, effectively knocking him to ground.  
  
Before he was capable of even saying her name, the young queen started licking his face and he purred, unable to respond to the warm affection she emanated in any other way.  
  
"Let the poor kit go for a sec," a slightly mocking voice intoned and Electra was softly nudged aside as Tugger settled down beside Quaxo to ruffle his head fur. The black tom couldn't help but notice that the heartthrob's mane was a tangle and that strands of it were missing - nor was there any way mistaking the way he held his other paw, pressed close to his body in pain.  
  
"Let's retire, shall we? We'll all keep together tonight, round the tire," Munkustrap said quietly and for once no one even thought of objecting. The group dispersed, the elder cats leading Deuteronomy, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer trailing behind with Pouncival.  
  
Electra held out her paw to Quaxo and he took it, noticing Bombalurina's arm around Tugger's shoulder and the surprise on the other tom's face. The tabby had already walked ahead, limping a little, one of his front paws entwined with Demeter's.  
  
There were many things that Quaxo would have thought about if he had had the opportunity. But neither his doubts nor his fear could reach through the turmoil that Electra's warm body curled up against his produced in his mind and so he fell asleep, lulled in by the young queen's heartbeat and the gentle stroking of her paw against his back.  
  
The sun was just rising when Quaxo startled out of his sleep, the murmur of many voices thundering in his ears. A soft tongue licked his nose and Electra smiled at him when he finally came awake enough to realize that the tribe wasn't even looking at him and that he was safe from any hissing and rejections for the time being.  
  
"Tell us how you were found!" Skimble's voice finally rang out over the tumble of words and the group fell silent, turning expectant eyes on Deuteronomy. The old tom smiled benevolently and indicated Tantomile and Coricopat who sat at the side of the clearing, as if keeping watch over the other cats.  
  
"These two and," the kind eyes roamed across the crowd, fixing on the young black tom, "Quaxo found me - how I can't say, but I suppose we can all guess…"  
  
The twins magical powers were no secret to anyone, but Quaxo's ears pricked up uncertainly, and his mind screamed: _Don't say what I did…don't! _- so afraid was he of inspiring more fear in the others than the mention of who his father was had already done.  
  
How would they ever trust him again if they knew he had a gift too - one that he himself wasn't sure of using wisely and well yet…  
  
Tantomile met his gaze just then and she nodded and rose slowly, striding towards the old leader and whispering something into his ear before returning to her brother's side and smiling mysteriously and blandly at the crowd, like him.  
  
It was their habit when they didn't want to talk about something, and right now, Quaxo would very much have liked to be able to know just how much they had sensed of his fears and doubt.  
  
Deuteronomy cleared his throat and continued, "I have, however, been asked not to dwell too much on the past - my saviours are too modest to have me reveal how much I'm indebted to them."  
  
Quaxo caught the eyes that were fixed on him and he averted his own, afraid of giving too much away and cringing when Jenny raised her paw, her voice cold as she looked at him,  
"Since you're back there's a new problem we must discuss and I would have this done with as soon as possible. I'm convinced that some among us are a danger to the community and one that must be dealt with accordingly."  
  
"You won't start with this again - isn't it perfectly plain to you yet that Quaxo is no threat to any of us? Who went out and came back with Deuteronomy?" Munkustrap's tone booked no disagreement and he was shaking with suppressed anger. The black tom had never seen him so furious.  
  
Demeter laid a paw on his arm and he took a deep breath before settling down beside her again. The Jellicle leader had raised his bushy eyebrows and was staring expectantly at Jenny,  
"Might I know what Quaxo has supposedly done? It seems you were talking about him, though I'm quite at a loss as to what can enrage Munkustrap so and make you, my dear Jenny, so very anxious."  
  
"He's related to that…monster! He's Macavity's son!" the orange tabby burst forth, fear and disgust plain on her features.  
  
Deuteronomy said nothing, but his eyes sought out Quaxo's and he held them for a long moment before speaking,  
"What has Quaxo done that makes you think he's a threat?"  
  
"He knew that…gangster…was his father - knew all along I reckon - he might've been spying on us ever since he came here - and he's so close to those two troublemakers too - and we knew very well who the calico brats are in league with…"  
  
"Stop it Jenny, or you'll make a complete fool out of yourself."  
  
All eyes turned to the speaker, whose voice had never before been heard in any assembly. Pouncival stared back at them nonchalantly, his jaw set tightly as he received a cuff on the head from Skimble,  
"That's no way to talk to the queen who raised you!"  
  
"I think this discussion is severely lacking in form," Munkustrap's voice might have cut through velvet, "I can't remember anything about cats being hit when they spoke up before."  
  
There was a warning in the tone that made even Skimble move away from the young tom who stood up and turned his back on both Jenny and her mate and stalked off, head held high. Moments later, Etcetera brushed past the seated cats and hurried after him, not without sparing an icy glance for the orange tabbies.  
  
Quaxo barely felt Electra's warmth as she rubbed against him - there was nothing that could have soothed him now. It was bad enough that he had trouble believing in and trusting himself - he didn't really fancy having others speak up for him only to be punished. He made his decision almost without thinking,  
"It seems I'm causing nothing but problems of late and therefore I'll…leave."  
  
The last word was the worst he had ever said aloud, for it broke his heart, and the gasps and stares he received from his friends and even from some of those who had lately hissed at him were not helping either.  
  
"Not without me," Electra said quietly, though her voice carried on the silence.  
  
"No one is leaving here, my dears," Deuteronomy's deep bass rumbled then and all cats turned towards him, "I can see you are scared, Jenny - but that is no reason to force Quaxo out of the tribe. He has never given any of us cause to fear him I would say and as long as that doesn't change he will stay. I would not dishonour a member of the Jellicle tribe for the mere knowledge of his parentage."  
  
Munkustrap nodded silently and Bombalurina smiled, "Since we've settled that - how about lunch? C'mon Tugger, let's see if you can still catch a mouse or if your days of stardom have totally overshadowed all of your abilities."  
  
"You talking to me?" the mocking voice intoned before the heartthrob straightened the remains of his proud mane and stalked off, looking at her with a wide grin as she followed.  
  
The grey tabby rose as well, shaking a little as he got to his paws and Demeter steadied him, smiling, "Jerrie, Teazer, know of any place where we can get some fish?"  
  
"Sure do, just come along!" both calicos blurted out, racing towards them at top speed. "You coming too Quaxo, Electra?"  
  
The black tom sighed softly as he nodded, helping the young queen up and joining his friends, his mind at rest for a little while.  
  
The days that followed were quiet - at least in terms of insults. Quaxo was never hissed at, though he received icy stares to last him for a lifetime. He didn't care too much though - his mind was occupied.  
  
There were so many things to consider - the implications of Macavity's magic, the fear rising again now that he had nothing else to think of… The black tom wasn't sure if he could trust himself - not even after saving both Deuteronomy and Coricopat. In a way these minutes had been so much of a blur that he wasn't completely sure it had been him at all…  
  
But every time he began to feel despair rising Electra would be there, rubbing up against him or Tugger would drop by at the pipe where Quaxo and the young queen had set up their home and invite them for a snack or a walk to see Munkustrap who wasn't allowed to stir on Demeter's orders.  
  
Quaxo had gotten used to seeing few cats who would actually greet him or smile when he appeared - but Tantomile's and Coricopat's coming up to shake his paws as soon as they saw him was something else entirely. It warmed him and assured him in a way that none of his other friends managed to - probably because they knew who he really was, what he could do and still weren't afraid of or disgusted by him.  
  
"What're we gonna do today?" Electra murmured sleepily, her voice muffled by Quaxo's chest fur.  
  
"Don't know…I thought of finding Pouncival."  
  
"I'm not sure he wants to be found."  
  
"I know he hasn't been out and about much…"  
  
"I talked to Etcy yesterday evening."  
  
The black tom looked at her expectantly and she sighed, smiling, "She's worried about him. Said that he's never been so quiet or contemplative before - nor so unwilling to be diverted. She's tried everything - he doesn't even respond to being tickled."  
  
"Since when is Pouncival ticklish?"  
  
"Etcy says they used to have tickling fights - though I can't remember ever being there; they seem to have been pretty close for a while."  
  
"Pounce was mooning over Bomba for the past months - at least that's what just about everyone believed."  
  
Electra laughed, playfully nudging Quaxo, "So what? They can be close without being in love, can't they?"  
  
The young tom's face grew hot, though he refused to acknowledge that that thought was precisely what he had dwelt on - and he couldn't well ask the question that popped up in his mind just then - whether Electra was his friend or…  
  
One more thing he hadn't really contemplated lately - but it was probably more important than any petty concerns about his powers; he didn't need to use them for the time being and El was always at his side - he ought to figure out his feelings as soon as possible.  
  
"You going now or not?"  
  
Quaxo looked up, broken out of his reverie, smiling as he smoothed a wayward strand of fur on the young queen's head and received a lick on his cheek in return,  
"Guess so - you coming?"  
  
"Yep, I'm sure Etcy'll be close to wherever Pounce is…"  
  
"It's a pretty dreary day, no one's about today - Pounce will probably be sitting on his chair."  
  
Electra only nodded as she indicated the junk pile with her paw. A mottled tom and a brightly striped queen sat huddled together on the viewpoint, bracing the fine rain that fell onto them, enveloping them like a curtain.  
  
Quaxo edged closer, a little afraid of the other two cats reaction to his appearance. Looking upwards, he met Pouncival's eyes and realized that he and El had been heard from a distance already - sensitive ears were common among their race after all…  
  
"Can we talk?" Somehow his voice sounded strained…  
  
The mottled tom didn't answer, but he slowly descended from his chair, after nuzzling Etcy and whispering something in her ear that made her smile.  
  
Quaxo straightened a little when he came face to face with his friend - unsure if they truly were friends - Pouncival might just have rebelled for a cause, not for a particular cat for all he knew.  
  
"Let's go somewhere dry," he suggested and lead the way to the battered oven Electra had discovered the night before.  
  
"New place?"  
  
"Well, guess so," Quaxo shrugged, "found it last night and since it's not as crammed as my pipe…El likes it much better so I guess we'll be moving."  
  
"Ah, queen taking over your life - any serious thoughts yet?"  
  
The black tom stared at his friend, not quite sure he knew what the other was talking about,  
"Serious thoughts?"  
  
"Yeah, ya know, being looked after and cared for, being important to someone…that usually ends in matehood…"  
  
Quaxo blushed slightly and Pouncival continued with a devilish grin, "So what did you want to talk about?"  
  
"I wanted to…thank you - for standing up for me…"  
  
"Oh come on - as if it were totally new to you that there are cats who don't think you're Macavity's secret weapon…"  
  
"Most of the tribe still keeps away from me."  
  
"They're stupid, just need someone to take out their fear on…Jenny surprised me - I wouldn't have thought if of her, she's been so kind to me and she… always insisted on my being a 'good tom', ya know…"  
  
It was hard to mistake the hurt in the quiet voice or the disappointment in the suddenly serious face. Brownish green eyes met Quaxo's and the mottled tom smiled, brushing away his gloomier thoughts,  
"Forget about them - they'll chill."  
  
Quaxo smiled now, holding out his paw, "I'm glad to have a few friends who won't turn their backs on me though."  
  
The mottled tom grinned, slapping the other on the back, "Don't get all sentimental here; might work with Tugger, but not with me."  
  
Laughing outright, Quaxo shook his head, "Don't let him hear you say that - he'd freak out!"  
  
"Still playing hard-to-get-heartthrob-with-a-heart-of-stone, ey?"  
  
"Seems like it - though he's been showing an appalling lack of coldness in his dealings with Bomba lately…"  
  
The name brought a sudden change over Pouncival - his smile lingered, but his eyes betrayed a sadness and wistfulness - as if the name had induced unpleasant, painful recollections. The ghost of playfulness in his voice he whispered,  
"I should've known better - falling in love with a queen almost twice your age might not be the best thing to do… But then again - when I figured out she wasn't really interested in ME it made me think about a few things. Like what I really wanted - apart from her. Pretty desolate when you find out that all you ever dreamt of achieving was to spend a night with her."  
  
Quaxo couldn't quite believe it. 'Love Bomba'? He'd never thought that star-struck look was more than a little infatuation… and then it also surprised him in a way to find that Pouncival of all cats, of all his kitten friends was in much the same situation as him - unsure of his place, frightened even about what he might find out about himself if he looked deeper.  
  
"I've never been much more than a prankster, Quax. I can't remember ever having given any of my friends more serious thought - except for Etcy and you - when you…saved my life. I never properly thanked you for that, did I?"  
  
"Ah, well, it was a long time ago…and it wasn't really anything…"  
  
"You saved my life, Quax! I would've drowned..."  
  
"Let's just say we're even - you stood up for me…"  
  
"That's not the same…"  
  
Two toms set their jaws in determination, staring at each other, hoping to convince the other that they were still indebted to him…until they burst out laughing,  
"Right, that settles the matter I'd say…" Quaxo breathed at last, still chuckling.  
  
"Kay, whatever…"  
  
It was just about a week after Old Deuteronomy had been returned to his tribe that rumours arose of Macavity being on the prowl - intent on revenge.  
  
Jenny used this as an excuse to publicly avoid Quaxo, turning her back to him whenever she saw him. Vicky followed her example to the point where she wouldn't even speak about the young tom, pretending he didn't exist at all. Skimble, Plato and Admetus kept their quiet - none of them being fully convinced of whoever was right in this matter.  
  
Most of the other cats were wary, yet no one dared to hiss at Quaxo, since Deuteronomy had made it quite clear - by pointed kindness - that he would have none of it.  
  
Still, an uneasiness had taken hold of the black tom, one that wouldn't let him sleep at night. He vaguely discerned that Macavity was the root of his fear and uncertainty - even when it came to his powers - but he never dwelt on it for too long, still afraid of what he might find.  
  
Just after sunrise, on a fairly chilly morning, a loud crash resounded through the junkyard, waking all inhabitants with a start.  
  
"Macavity!" Demeter mumbled as soon as she had sat up in Munkustrap's embrace and the name was soon echoed by others who had left their sleeping places only to find the yard full of strays and the ginger tom lounging on the Jellicle leader's tire as upon his throne…  
  
It didn't take long for the tribe to assemble - and the hissing was pronounced and ugly, even before Macavity spoke, grinning, in a pleasantly accented conversational tone,  
"Greetings, my friends. It is a lovely morning for getting even, isn't it? I have sworn that I won't allow you to triumph over me…and so you won't. You have a few things that belong to me here and I'm determined to get them back," the cold gaze swept the crowd to rest a moment too long on Demeter who crouched involuntarily, hissing,  
"I will, however, have mercy on those who give themselves over to me right now and…"  
  
"I challenge you, Macavity."  
  
All eyes fixed on Munkustrap, who stood proud and tall, the scars still visible from his recent fights. He exuded a calm that was almost frightening and everyone knew that this challenge was for a fight to the death.  
  
Demeter gasped and reached out as if to touch the tabby, but he pointedly drew away from her, ignoring her. Quaxo knew this was the only way the tom could keep his mind on the problem ahead - it surely wasn't everyday that he offered his life in exchange for the tribe's freedom as he was doing now…  
  
"Ah, heroic, aren't we, young one," Macavity sneered, but his eyes sparkled dangerously.  
  
The black tom wasn't sure what he could do, yet there was something that needed to be done; it couldn't be that he was the only one who was appalled at Munkustrap's decision. To him, it was in no way heroic, merely stupid. The tabby stood no chance against a seasoned fighter like Macavity and even if despair gave him strength he couldn't match his opponent's skill.  
  
Other than that - why ever should the strays who had overrun the junkyard already, sit around calmly and watch a fight when they had already won? For it was very clear that the tribe would be unable to defend its terrain against them all…  
  
"You wanna have the junkyard? You won't get it without a fight. All of us against all of you."  
  
Jenny hissed, but Skimble silenced her as Pouncival strode up and stood beside Munkustrap. Tugger joined him and both toms laid their paws on the tabby's arms, a gesture of friendship and support, even though Quaxo knew they would restrain him should he try to face Macavity alone.  
  
"All of you against all of us. Now that's a thought, kitten," the ginger tom was grinning from ear to ear now, obviously enjoyed the little spectacle, "and pray, how will you ever make it out alive?"  
  
No one answered, so he continued, his calm voice very loud and clear in the still morning air,  
"Fools - that's what you are. I ask so little of you. A tribute to my band - let's say, once a month and…returning my…property…"  
  
"Bastard!"  
  
Munkustrap would have thrown himself at the other tom, had he not been held back forcibly. There was no doubt as to who the word 'property' indicated. A loud whisper was heard, Jenny.  
  
"So what - it's one for all of us. If Munkustrap would do it, why wouldn't she…"  
  
"Shut up, that's enough now!" hardly ever had Skimble been heard to silence his mate, but Quaxo was glad there would be no discussion. Letting Demeter sacrifice herself - indeed - as if the tabby would ever allow it!  
  
But the young queen had heard the suggestion and now she stepped forward, trembling slightly, though her head was held high and she refused to cower as she met Macavity's stare,  
"Since when do you make offers? Your business is usually concluded before you appear - you're a strategist, not a negotiator. What do you really want? Some time out, playing?"  
  
Quaxo was pretty sure that hardly anyone, save Demeter and maybe Bombalurina could see the minute twitching of the ginger tom's tail…so the young queen had hit the mark. And that seemed to surprise and enrage Macavity even further…  
  
"Enough! Either you yield or I'll take what I want."  
  
"You heard our answer," Munkustrap had reigned his temper in somewhat and accepted Pouncival's suggestion for the time being. The black tom had no illusions as to who would tackle Macavity the moment the fight started.  
  
"Ah, you'll go down as one big family… Get them!"  
  
The command was very quietly spoken, but the ginger tom had obviously trained his band well - they flung themselves at the nearest cats at once. The tabby, as Quaxo had foreseen, started towards Macavity, Pouncival and Tugger kept the strays who were trying to get to their leader away from the two furiously hissing toms.  
  
Quaxo didn't have much more time for thought - Electra screamed as a ragged black stray threw her to the ground, a lascivious grin painted on his features. She scratched him, trying to throw him off, but he was obviously heavier and stronger than her. The black tom hissed, extending his claws and swiping at the other, the two of them rolling in a tumble of limbs on the ground only moments later.  
  
Never before had Quaxo actually fought another cat like this - and he wasn't sure if he could do it, yet any doubts were brushed away at the remembrance of the leer that his opponent had given Electra - _his Electra_. No tom should ever dare lay his paws on her unless she gave him permission and HE would see to that…  
  
How long the fight went on, Quaxo didn't know. Time was of no consequence - he was drawn from one fray to the other, slapping, slashing, hissing. Sometimes he felt faint for a moment, noticed the blood on his fur without any clear recollection if it was his or someone else's - he kept close to Electra, protecting her as she protected him and as soon as they had a moment's peace they took deep breaths…only to be tackled again and thrown to the ground.  
  
Now and then a piercing scream, fragments of names or a howl of pain broke through the trance of movement, through the blur that had descended upon Quaxo. He had to fend those strays off, keep them away from Electra and himself - otherwise they were as good as dead - or maybe in for a worse fate.  
  
A hiss coming from behind him, he was pushed, stumbled, fell - claws coming at him, aiming for his throat, El calling his name and…a whirl of multi-coloured fur, curses and threats coming from a voice he recognised, a heavy accent…  
  
Mungojerrie extended his paw, helping Quaxo up. There was no time to thank his friend as they turned to face a group of five furious strays, and though the odds were against them…a scream of pain from the strays flanking the left and the right - Electra and Rumpleteazer hissing and clawing at their backs, pounding at them and throwing them to the ground…  
  
"That's for tryin' ta 'urt me mate!" and the heavy tom received a blow to his jaw that knocked him out cold, the calico queen's eyes glowing dangerously as she pounced upon the next stray…  
  
"Angels o' destruction, ey?" Mungojerrie grinned, between ducking a swipe aimed at his head and slashing at his opponent's shoulder. Quaxo only nodded, trying to keep his balance as one of his legs was held by a cat lying on the ground, unable to get up and unwilling to give up while another stray kept dealing blows to his midsection that he sought to avoid.  
  
The sun cast milky yellow shadows, its rays unable to completely penetrate the smog and fog that lingered above the city and the junkyard. Almost unreal, the light, the groans and moans of the wounded cats - and still more unreal the quiet that began to descend, slowly, over the battlefield.  
  
The strays seemed to magically vanish, disappear - a beaten army retreating to their camps. Quaxo felt defeat in the air, though he couldn't understand how a number of seriously outnumbered felines who were not in the least battle hardened or trained had managed to withstand, if not to triumph over the pack of strays…  
  
Shaking off his last opponent, Quaxo looked around himself, saw nothing but destruction and…Munkustrap's still form, Demeter crouched low over him, protective, hissing - Bombalurina, Etcetera and Rumpleteazer driving back a circle of toms who, ragged and bloody as they were, still looked stronger and more menacing than the queens - yet they stood in awe of them and cowered, fleeing at last, unable to fight them any longer…  
  
"El?" a quiet whisper, not carrying on the cool wind that made him shiver, enveloped and drowned in an air thick with pain, blood and…death.  
  
A blur of colour, just behind Munkustrap, Tugger stumbling out of it, falling, scratched and bleeding, and Macavity standing tall, the last cat to remain, the leader of the pack in all his glory, glowing a menacing ginger red, blood and fury in motion as he descended towards the tabby, throwing away the queens, halting only a moment in front of Demeter.  
  
She was hissing, clawing at him, and she was not afraid, only angry, hateful - one swipe of his claws, powerful, hitting her shoulder, gnashing open a wound and she fell to the side, gasping…  
  
A mop of fur moving behind Macavity as he turned Munkustrap around, claws extended, meaning to swipe them clean across the bare throat of the helpless, unconscious tom…  
  
Someone threw himself at the ginger tom, carelessly flung to the ground, his claws leaving a long, deep scratch on overly bright red fur…  
  
"NO!"  
  
Something snapped in Quaxo, calling him from his lethargy, adrenalin pumping his blood faster through his veins as he raised his paws, aiming carefully, knowing he would not fail this time…hurtling a concentrated bolt of blue lightning straight at Macavity, at his chest…  
  
A scream, outrage, pain, fear - piercing eyes fixing on him across the distance - commanding remembrance before the ginger tom slumped forward, covering the tabby's body with his own and silence fell, complete and unbroken…  
  
Quaxo stared at Macavity's body, unable to look away - even following the bright ginger fur as Pouncival and Demeter crawled towards the two toms, lifting the motionless body off the tabby.  
  
"Quax…" a soft voice - and he couldn't place it, was hardly conscious of the touch to his arm, the dark paw, mussed, scratched and bloody that stroked his fur gently…  
  
He turned around then, stumbling blindly away from the warmth, the caring he didn't deserve, couldn't deserve. He knew that Macavity was dead. He needed no confirmation, the last look of…his father…forever burned into his mind. A tiredness beyond any he had ever experienced overcame him, and he sank to the ground, closing his eyes against the memories, the pain and…helplessness.  
  
_…he aimed - for the ginger tom's heart - aimed carefully, knowing and wanting the other to be gone, to leave everyone be…lightning, too strong to merely shock or stun and he knew what he was doing, he knew he was killing…_  
  
"Sshh, it's alright, only a dream, you're safe…"  
  
Quaxo grabbed the warm body, holding on tightly, shivering. He didn't know where he was, nor who the other cat was and he couldn't have cared less…  
  
"You're safe, he can't hurt you anymore…"  
  
The black tom trembled, eyes full of…emotions in his mind, accusing him of…he was guilty, he had…  
  
"No…" a tired whisper against dark fur as a paw began stroking his back, rubbing it in soothing circles, purring into his nearest ear.  
  
"It's over Quax. It's all over."  
  
He pushed the arms that held him so tightly away, coming nose to nose with Electra. Her fur was tussled, she was badly scratched and there were tears running down her cheeks. Was she afraid of him? Drawing in on himself a little more, he tried to hide in a corner of what he recognised as the burnt out oven that was, at times, used as sickbay.  
  
"You're crying…" it sounded childish, unsure. Electra shook her head slightly, a sob breaking free.  
  
"We…lost… And we can't bear to tell…"  
  
Lost? Quaxo straightened up - so the fight had taken its toll, he ought to have known. Carefully he moved closer to the young queen and touched her paw gingerly. She rubbed up against him, seeking comfort. Her voice was broken as she went on,  
"Skimble, Jelly…T-Tumble," she was sobbing now, "J-J-e-m-m-i…"  
  
Electra's pain was raw, as if someone had torn a piece of her heart out; Quaxo understood - Jemima had been such a lovable, quiet thing. And the queen kittens had all been very close. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him,  
"Does…Pounce know?"  
  
"Etcy…said she'd…tell him."  
  
The black tom nodded, pulling her closer, patting her back. Macavity's eyes returned, taking shape in front of his mind's eye - full of pain, rage and hatred; the spectre of the cat he had killed…  
  
On the next morning, dawn was suspended for moments, an inexplicable silence hung in the air, as if the day were waiting, afraid of what it might find.  
  
Plato and Admetus had gone to fetch Old Deuteronomy after a brief respite and the venerable leader was already waiting to address the tribe as it came together around the tire, treading carefully, keeping their eyes away from the ground where fur and blood was beginning to mingle with the earth that had softened in the fine drizzle that fell onto the bedraggled group.  
  
"My dears, there are no words to comfort or explain what happened yesterday, so let us honour the dead with our silence and our quiet thoughts and prayers."  
  
Quaxo held Electra tightly and both of them looked at the procession that brought the Jellicles forward, laying them in front of the tire. The black tom noticed that Mungojerrie and Pouncival were carrying Tumblebrutus, closely followed by Demeter and Rumpleteazer with Jemima, Bombalurina and Etcetera with Jelly and Admetus and Plato with Skimble.  
  
Jenny was stumbling after them, sobbing, until Deuteronomy hugged her close and drew her to the side. Though the elder queen had caused him pain more than once during the past week, Quaxo felt sorry for her - she had lost her mate, her adopted daughter and her best friend. In a way it was probably good that Skimble had died, Jemima's death would have been too much to bear for him - her mother had left him and it had taken a long time for his grief to subside…  
  
There was hardly a sound from the morning traffic to be heard, and not a bird broke the stillness of the mourners as they thought of the last words exchanged, the last moments spend with their loved ones.  
  
The four cats were buried near the vicarage wall, in a little wood in the corner of the human cemetery. It was a long standing tradition, but Quaxo wondered, as he walked silently in the midst of the tribe, where the stray's bodies had been left - there had been a few dead in their rows surely, but those had disappeared in the night, as had Macavity…  
  
"He would preserve his mysterious ways, even in death," Demeter laid a paw on his arm, rubbing it gently, "his henchcats will have buried him as they buried their fellows. I saw them return."  
  
…and she hadn't given any warning. The black tom nodded. He understood. There were no winners - the Jellicles had protected their territory and succeeded, but the loss didn't really seem worth it now…  
  
"Let us all call to the Everlasting Cat to open her lap to our loved ones."  
  
The ritual phrase spoken, the tribe stood around the open graves, forming a half-circle, like the shape of the waning moon and sang their last prayer for the deceased,  
"The mystical divinity of unashamed felinity,  
Round the cathedral rang 'Vivat!'  
Life to the Everlasting Cat;  
Feline, fearless, faithful and true  
To others who do what Jellicles do and Jellicles can…"  
  
The last words were broken now and then by strangled sobs and Quaxo couldn't stop the tears slipping down his cheeks either. Though he and Tumble had never been particularly close friends, they had spent a lot of time in each others' company. The black tom knew Pounce had always admired his elder brother and cared deeply for him, despite their constant bickering.  
  
The two had always reminded him of Tugger and Munkustrap in a way… And then there was Jemima - so easily overlooked, but always the sweetest and gentlest playfellow, kind and friendly. She had turned from him at Jenny's orders, but since she had never said a harsh word to him - nor to Electra, Etcetera or Pouncival - there was really nothing to reproach her for.  
  
She hadn't been neither rebel, nor heroine - only a nice little kitten, shy and warm…and now she was gone and for some reason the world seemed colder without her bright smile around…  
  
The tribe was sobered by its heavy loss and Deuteronomy refused to go back to stay at the vicarage, resolving to lend his support and offer his help wherever he was wanted. Quaxo hardly counted the days anymore, for nothing changed - he was shunned even more than before and he began to hear whispers of "black magician", "killer", "danger" quite frequently.  
  
Yet this was nothing compared to the pain he felt inside - the fear of his powers had abated to make room for a greater, more potent one - had not his steady aiming at Macavity shown that he was no better than him?  
  
Electra didn't speak about the fight, stubbornly pretending that it hadn't taken place. She would sit with Etcetera for hours, quietly talking, but each evening she returned to her and Quaxo's new home, waiting for him.  
  
He brought dinner, since it was the best excuse for his solitary strolls, for keeping away from the others. In truth, he usually conjured up a mouse or two, maybe a bit of fish and cream just before he went back - there was no point in searching when he could get by all of it with little effort.  
  
His days were spent wandering about, evading the others, trying in vain to banish the memory of the ginger tom's eyes from his mind. Night after night he dreamt of the anguish, the pain he had seen in the last look, and night after night he awoke sweating and shaking.  
  
The young queen soothed him, and it was only when he laid his head on her chest and listened to her steady heartbeat that he found a measure of calm that enabled him to go back to sleep. Yet all his dreams were tainted, dark and bloody, full of whispering shadows and cold, staring eyes that gazed at him, unseeing, hung with the mists of death…  
  
Two weeks passed and life at the junkyard seemed to be back to normal, if not for the emptiness of and the occasional lost glances towards the favourite places the four deceased had occupied.  
  
Quaxo made his way towards Munkustrap's lorry, a mouse dangling from his mouth. This was the first he had caught in a long time and since Electra hadn't been at their place he thought it might be a nice present for the tabby.  
  
He was halfway there, when an orange tabby ran headfirst into him. She mumbled a dejected apology, then, suddenly, stared up at him and drew back, trembling. Her paw went to her lips and she shook her head, eyes wide, turning around and running off.  
  
The black tom hung his head. This was not good at all - though he hadn't seen much of Jenny lately, their meeting just now had convinced him that she was frightened of him - and that for good reason; just about everyone knew who had stopped Macavity…and how. It was a much talked of secret now - one that he could no longer keep as he had hoped…  
  
Therefore, instead of visiting Munkustrap, Quaxo walked straight to the vicarage, where he found Old Deuteronomy sleeping in the living room, as he had expected. The old shaggy tom had recently offered Asparagus to stay with him and his human and now the theatre cat was lounging on a cushion on the windowsill staring out at the cemetery.  
  
Quaxo approached softly, but Gus' ears were still uncommonly good, for he turned around the moment the black tom entered and nodded in greeting, his face serious,  
"There y'are Jelly, dear. It's only Quaxo, as I said. He came round by the front door, not the gardens, you see."  
  
The quiet voice carried through the room and Deuteronomy stirred, almost rolling off the couch he'd made his bed,  
"Ah, Quaxo - what a pleasant surprise. Do sit down."  
  
Staring uncertainly at Gus, the young tom did as he was asked and flopped down beside the Jellicle leader unceremoniously. The mouse fell onto his front paws and he let go of it, smiling,  
"I forgot I still had it with me - do you want it?"  
  
"Thank you, but…"  
  
"That's so nice of you - Jelly is hungry you see, she had no breakfast, though I told her to eat something. If you're sure you don't want it…"  
  
"Ah…yes…here you are…" Quaxo jumped off the couch, carrying the mouse to the windowsill and placing it in front of Gus who smiled benevolently at the thin air in front of him and reached out a paw to pat a non-existing cat,  
"There you go, dear, isn't that nice of the young one? Thank you, my tom, thank you very much indeed."  
  
Nodding solemnly, the black cat returned to Deuteronomy, who indicated for him to follow and took him through the kitchen into the back garden. They sat down beneath an old apple tree and the old Jellicle sighed,  
"I am afraid Gus didn't take the news of Jelly's passing very well. He's been talking to her as if she were still around - I suppose it's because she was all he had. His family, his everything."  
  
Quaxo nodded and the other tom continued, "You know, he was wild as a young one - his friends and the theatre got him back on the right track. Jelly was his favourite from the moment she was born, his best friend's daughter. Everyone left or passed away and she alone remained…"  
  
Something sparked in Quaxo then, a recognition, a realization; he and Gus weren't all that different and…  
  
"Did you know Macavity when he was younger?"  
  
"Oh, yes, not very well, but I did know him. His parents were both strays - they debated whether or not to join the Jellicles, but in the end they preferred their freedom, roaming wild and without ties and obligations. They didn't see much of a kitten in their son - he was a member of the team, he worked with them from his earliest infancy as far as I know."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Me and Gus, we used to talk about Macavity sometimes. While his parents were staying with us, that is. We thought that making friends with our kittens here would do him good, set him right. It later worked with Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer…"  
  
"You mean that he was only lonely?"  
  
"It surely is more complicated than that, but in the basis, yes."  
  
"Well…"  
  
Quaxo had to admit that, of late, his dreams had been more vivid - and always he had felt a strong connection to Macavity - not because he was his father, but…because they were both of the same kind, had lived through the same situations. How he could feel such a thing was beyond him - it had been as if that last look the dying tom gave him had somehow made him privy to the deepest secrets hidden away in the other cat's mind.  
  
It had taken him a while to see them, to understand the despair and the fear, to interpret them correctly. And now he also saw that the anger Macavity had felt against Munkustrap had stemmed from his own inability to win Demeter's love. She had defended the tabby as she never would have defended the ginger tom…  
  
"I think so…I mean, that he was lonely in a way…he couldn't connect to anyone as Gus or…I could."  
  
Deuteronomy nodded, sighing softly,  
"Now, my young friend, I believe you haven't come to discuss Macavity with me, have you?"  
  
"No, not really. I just…I met Jenny this morning and she ran away from me. I think it's time I told everyone that I am a…" he took all his courage together and continued, "…magical cat."  
  
"That is commendable, Quaxo. I am happy to hear you have finally come to terms with your powers and wish the others to know of them."  
  
"You knew…" the black tom didn't finish his sentence - it wasn't so surprising; after all, Deuteronomy had been there when he lowered both him and Coricopat to the ground in that warehouse…  
  
"I think you've just given yourself the answer to your question. Would you like me to call the Jellicles together for an assembly tomorrow at noon?"  
  
"Yes, that would be…good. I'd first like to talk to…someone else."  
  
"Well, you'd better go then my young friend, Electra will already be waiting, I'm sure…"  
  
When Quaxo returned to the oven he and Electra had set up their permanent home in, he cringed at the thought of her reaction. And it probably wasn't a very good time to tell her that he hoped they'd stay together as more than friends…  
  
"Quaxo! I was worried about you, you're never so late…"  
  
There was only the hint of a reproach in the warm tone as the young queen snuggled up to him and smiled. He sighed and laid his paw on her arm,  
"There's something I'd like to talk about, El."  
  
"Did one of the idiots call you names again?" she sounded flustered and her voice was a notch higher than usually, a sure sign of indignation.  
  
"No. It's just that…I thought I should tell you that…I'm…that I have…" he wasn't quite sure about his approach, so he began again, "When Macavity… when I…" he sighed again, more deeply this time.  
  
A dark paw touched his cheek and turned his face towards Electra. Her eyes were as warm as her smile as she whispered, "Trust me."  
  
"I'm a magical cat."  
  
Not that he had actually meant to blurt it out like that, but a stronger tom would have melted under the young queen's gaze.  
  
"I figured that much, as so has just about everyone else in the tribe."  
  
Electra giggled and cuddled up even closer, "That doesn't change anything for me," she faced him now, suddenly serious, "unless you want things to change…"  
  
His throat very dry, Quaxo shook his head, hugging the young queen close, smiling as she began purring softly against his throat.  
  
The next morning came all too soon and with it the obligation to tell the rest of the tribe once and for all that he was no ordinary cat. Quaxo didn't feel in the least courageous as he walked through the crowd towards the tire come noon.  
  
Deuteronomy called the cats to order and said,  
"Quaxo has requested to speak to you all today; step right up here, my young friend."  
  
The black tom helped the shaggy Jellicle leader down and stood up straight on the huge tire, willing himself not to show weakness and his voice not to tremble. Deciding that a subtle approach to the topic would very likely be nothing but a waste of time and energy, he plunged right in,  
"You all know that I…shot a lightning bolt at…Macavity. And you've called me quite a few names for it. I'd like to tell you that I'm neither a…killer, nor a sadist…I'm only a magical cat. If you doubt my being able to use these powers then do ask some of those you might believe," he looked at Tugger who rose and, even before his eyes had fixed on Tantomile and Coricopat, they were standing too, bowing their heads in his direction.  
  
"I've spent a long time learning how to use this magic and I've never used it to hurt anyone," he gazed at the lanky tom for a moment, who simply grinned and gave a curt nod in his direction, "…what I really mean to say to you is that I have been unsure if I am safe to be around - until recently."  
  
"Hear, hear," Jenny's sour voice intoned, but Deuteronomy laid a paw onto her arm, bidding her to be quiet.  
  
"I…killed Macavity and I knew what I was doing. That's something I can't deny. And I also admit to being his son. But I'm nothing like him. I might have been - but I was given a chance that he never had; I was loved and I found a family that was willing to adopt me and care for me."  
  
Demeter smiled, nudging Munkustrap gently in the side and licking his nose when he turned towards her. Tugger's arm crept slowly around Bombalurina's waist and she leaned against him, brushing aside a few tufts of his mane that tickled her cheek.  
  
"Macavity always was alone, and he never found someone who trusted him - because he never trusted anyone. I won't ask you all to accept me, since that's probably something you can't do…but I'd like to have a chance - to be able to live among you without being insulted and hissed at."  
  
The black tom took a deep breath and stepped off the tire, grinning when Electra hugged him close, tickling his side.  
  
"Hey, Quax - why don't ya tell them your second second name now?"  
  
Someone chuckled - it was Deuteronomy as he raised his paws and made his way through the crowd towards the young cat,  
"Ah…there we have it - a true magical cat; only they have two second names."  
  
Quaxo looked around himself, indicating Tantomile and Coricopat. Before he could open his mouth, however, they answered his unvoiced question in unison,  
"We are the mystical twins - 'mystical', not 'magical'. We have certain powers, but we could never throw lightning, nor could we perform any of your…tricks."  
  
"You see, my young friend, you are quite extraordinary," Deuteronomy was still chuckling as he patted Quaxo's shoulder, "Now, do tell us that other second name of yours."  
  
"Mr. Mistoffelees."  
  
He said it with pride and conviction, knowing that it was his name and that he had the right to use it. Then he added, as an afterthought, "But I'd prefer to be called Quaxo or Misto - especially by my friends."  
  
"And so you shall!" the old leader's voice boomed and he raised his paws high as Munkustrap helped him to sit down on the tire, "So, my dears, are there any other matters we might address at this assembly?"  
  
Since no one could think of anything, though Quaxo suspected that Tugger had been on the verge of raising his paw, the meeting was sojourned and the cats gathered together in little groups for a quiet chat and the occasional gossip.  
  
Winter came fast that year, and when the first snow fell it covered the last traces of the catfight, shrouding the junkyard into a clean, white blanket that offered the tribe a new beginning.  
  
Quaxo had returned to visit his human family as soon as his scratches and wounds were sufficiently healed so as not to cause too great an alarm. It seemed they had been worried, even though Bello had done an admirable job of eating the cat food each day.  
  
However, the black tom had no intention of remaining at the house for the winter - Electra had thought it best not to go back to hers, since she had shared her humans with Jemima and couldn't bear the memories the two had shared in their kittenhood there.  
  
With the season's gloom came the sober mourning, the quiet remembrance and Quaxo knew that Electra preferred not to sleep alone through the long nights, even though her nightmares had subsided, like his own.  
  
"Say El, would you rather have a mouse or some fish for dinner…" Quaxo stopped dead in his tracks, not having noticed that the young queen wasn't alone. Etcetera sat with her in the old oven, sniffling a little.  
  
"Come, sit with us, Quax." Electra patted the worn blanket beside her and he settled down with the two of them quietly, unsure of why he should be asked to stay when he had the feeling of intruding upon a private conversation.  
  
"Etcy's worried about Pounce. We were just talking about him."  
  
"What's wrong with Pounce?"  
  
"I don't know why, it's that he's drawing more into himself - he shuts me out, goes out on his own and sometimes doesn't even come back for the night. I don't know where he sleeps, and if he eats something."  
  
"We're guessing that it has something to do with…Tumble. Jenny's very depressed lately and we're often thinking of Jemi lately…very often."  
  
"I'm not sure what to do about it."  
  
"I don't think there's much we can do until he wants to talk, but Quax, if you see him somewhere - especially late in the evening or at night - do tell him to come home…"  
  
Etcetera sniffled again and brushed a few tears away, "I'd better go now, meeting Rumple. We're going for a stroll."  
  
Quaxo nodded, not commenting on the change the last months had effected within the tribe. Electra and Etcetera had been disappointed in Vicky - though he had no clear idea why - and had, from then on, bonded with Bombalurina, Demeter and Rumpleteazer.  
  
The old cliques had been broken apart, as if the mating dance at the last Ball had truly forged a different understanding of themselves and their world. They had chosen their own paths, all of them and truly come a long way since their kitten days…  
  
"Quax?" a soft voice mumbled close to his ear and he breathed the soft scent deeply, just before lazily opening his eyes. Electra was cuddled up to him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck and shoulder and she was nudging him with her paw.  
  
"Yeah…"  
  
"I just wanted to hear your voice."  
  
The black tom grinned, pulling Electra closer, stroking her back. One of those nightmares. Sometimes they came back to haunt either of them and all they really needed was a few words, gestures, warmth. The young queen began purring quietly, snuggling still more into his arms and Quaxo closed his eyes, licking her ear lightly until he was sure she was asleep again.  
  
Then his thoughts focused on the topic that had occupied his thoughts quite often lately - how to tell Electra that he would really like to be with her permanently. He had grown used to her companionship, but it was more than that - so much more that he saw in her. At first he had told himself that her determination, her steadfast refusal to let him down as her friend had inspired gratitude…  
  
And yet, gratitude couldn't quite explain why he would not allow anyone to hurt her, why he had fought like a madcat only to protect her, why her every thought and feeling was so precious to him. Mere respect and friendship were too simple, not complex enough to define what she meant to him.  
  
It was only in quiet moments that he had dared to name the emotion, to see that he really was beyond 'in love' - he loved the queen in his arms, completely, and he wanted to have her at his side always. Even the possibility of a family crossed his mind now and then, but always it was Electra who was with him, no one else…  
  
"Quaxo! Electra!"  
  
The two cats stirred from their deep sleep, reluctantly pulling their entwined limbs apart; it took a while for the frantic tone to penetrate the early morning fog in their brains…  
  
Jumping up they jumped out of their oven, coming across Pouncival standing there, screaming for them, Etcetera in his arms…  
  
"Etcy!!!!!!!" Electra squealed, rushing to her friends' side, laying her paw onto the deep cut in the brightly coloured queen's wrist, feeling the blood pulsing all too strongly beneath her fur.  
  
"…cut…can't find…Jenny…" the mottled tom was gasping, his eyes wild. Never had Quaxo seen him this agitated, this close to panicking - not that he could blame him.  
  
"What about Jenny's place?" A frantic shake of Pouncival's head even before he had finished the sentence put the problem before him most clearly…the orange tabby was the one who was best suited to take care of any injured or ill cat since Jelly was gone…  
  
Quaxo closed his eyes, concentrating hard on Jenny's picture in his mind, willing himself to see her, wherever she was, to find her…his thoughts reaching out, spinning a delicate web that disentangled itself slowly until there was only one thread left, a thin white line that he followed until he saw the elder queen sitting at her mate's grave, a purple flower in her hand…  
  
Holding that image tightly, he stretched out his paws, a glow emanating from their tips as he called Jenny's shape, her body to him, disintegrating her being for a moment, drawing her along on a swift wind towards him, settling her down in front of him…  
  
"Everlast…" a voice he knew all too well breathed close to his ear and Quaxo opened his eyes, the glow diminishing from his paw tips as he gazed at a ruffled, furious and definitely very scared orange tabby.  
  
Before there was time for any exchange of 'pleasantries', Pouncival had called the elder queen's name, effectively drawing her attention away from the black tom. She gave a gasp, all bustling and busy, snapping out her orders at once,  
"Take her…inside there. Get me a few rags, clean if possible, hot water and…"  
  
Quaxo closed his eyes, willing all these items inside. It wasn't hard, considering that he had perfected his ability to conjure up any and all foods of late. This wasn't all that different. The water steamed, the white wisps broken by the chill morning air.  
  
Jenny glanced at him for a moment, confusion in her eyes, but she didn't waver in her task, pushing Pouncival aside as soon as he had let go of Etcetera, motioning for Electra to come to her,  
"You toms keep out!"  
  
With that she drew the blanket in front of the opening in the oven that had been sealed with a few planks to leave only a little space to move into or out of the place. The mottled tom was shivering now and Quaxo caught the telltale swallowing that would soon break into sobs. Moving towards his friend he took him by the shoulders, wanting to find the right words and finding his arms full of a crying Pouncival moments later.  
  
It took a few moments until he could make out the words that were tumbling out between gasps for air and the tears that wetted the fur at his shoulder,  
"…my fault…left her…alone…Jemi…picture…glass…cut her wrist…saw cuts…others…"  
  
The spell lasted for only a couple of minutes, then the mottled tom pulled away, rubbing his eyes, looking sheepish and more than a little embarrassed.  
  
"I won't tell."  
  
"Doesn't…" a low sigh, "doesn't matter…if only she doesn't…I can't do without her…not anymore…"  
  
Quaxo nodded silently. He understood. If it had been Electra... Still, Pouncival's uncharacteristic display of emotion had unsettled him somewhat. Yet it was not all that difficult to see that his friend was still raw from the loss of his brother. To find Etcy, bleeding, probably unconscious and not knowing if he was going to lose her as well now…that would have been too much for a callous cat - and the mottled tom had lately shown that he did possess a very warm heart indeed.  
  
"Tell me what happened?"  
  
Pouncival sniffed loudly as he settled onto the cold ground, seemingly unaware of the chill Quaxo felt creeping into his bones. A quick flick of his wrist and a thought brought a warm, fluffy blanket beneath them that at least kept the white frost from reaching their fur.  
  
"I don't know…a lot. Just that she was doing something, portrait I guess of…Jemi."  
  
The black tom nodded, not quite making the connection between a drawing and the deep cut in Etcetera's wrist.  
  
"She…etched it in glass."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Don't ask…I…didn't listen when she…told me…and I ought to have kept my eye on her, she was so…determined and so…sad."  
  
"So she cut herself on the glass?"  
  
"I think she used a chip of a jewel or something as a pencil of sorts. Rumpleteazer hinted at something she had gotten for Etcy. I…knew she was up to something…she had pieces of broken glass around, with a few sketches…I didn't look at them, really…I should have noticed - she cut herself a couple of times…I ought to have been there…I failed her, Quax!"  
  
The black tom opened his mouth, but closed it again when he saw the sparkle in his friend's eyes, telling him that nothing he could say could convince Pouncival that he wasn't responsible. It gave Quaxo a very weird feeling, sitting there with a tom he suddenly didn't know anymore.  
  
The carefree kitten he had played with had disappeared, gone with the summer and he wondered for a moment if he had changed as much in the eyes of others.  
  
"She'll be alright."  
  
"I mustn't lose her, I couldn't…bear it," the mottled tom whispered, a single tear running across his cheek, his eyes fixed defiantly on Quaxo. Electra chose that moment to slip out of the oven and walk towards them, smiling slightly and laying her paw onto Pouncival's shoulder,  
"Not to worry, Jenny says she'll be fine. But she promised to give you a good talking to - she's really agitated…"  
  
"Can I go in?"  
  
"Guess so."  
  
The mottled tom gave them a curt nod, brushing past them and carefully stepping through the opening into the oven. Electra sighed, leaning against Quaxo and licking his cheek affectionately,  
"Poor thing."  
  
The black tom hugged her, mumbling something against her neck when she drew him closer and held tightly onto him. For a moment, the world centred in the warmth of her body, the brush of her dark fur against his…  
  
It turned out that Jenny had indeed a few things to say to Pouncival. After she had given over her duties as nurse to Electra, favouring Quaxo with a slightly frightened and insecure glance, she had drawn the mottled tom to a more secluded spot from where, not long afterwards, their agitated voices could be heard.  
  
This 'discussion' went on for days afterwards, resulting in loud exchanges every time they met. Since that usually happened when Jenny came to check up on Etcy, Quaxo was an unwilling witness and he began to loathe the sound of the orange tabbies pawsteps.  
  
Now and then a few words drifted to him, but mostly he kept his ears firmly covered with his paws or buried his head into a few blankets. He didn't want to be involved into the squabbling - not for anything.  
  
A few days passed and Etcetera improved very much, the cut healing very well, though she was still weak from the loss of blood. She stubbornly refused to pay heed to any of Jenny's warnings and threats, turning away as soon as the elder queen appeared.  
  
"She's still angry with Jenny for slapping Pounce. Seems he was quite miserable…" Electra whispered to Quaxo one morning and the black tom shook his head, sighing.  
  
As if it weren't hard enough - Pouncival hadn't said a word to Etcy as yet, from the moment she had woken on he was lingering in the shadows, always close to her, but he didn't come inside the oven and nothing would make him face her.  
  
Finally, Electra's nerves snapped, "I'm gonna go and MAKE him see her, he behaves like a KITTEN!" And with this, she stormed out, ready to drag the young tom along if necessary. Quaxo was left alone with Etcetera who was just waking from a deep sleep.  
  
She mumbled Pouncival's name, reaching out and grabbing the white paw that came to steady her as she tried to sit up. Noticing her mistake she smiled and averted her eyes,  
"He still won't visit…"  
  
"You'll see him soon enough - El's gone to get him."  
  
"I'd rather he came out of his own free will," there was a slightly mischievous sparkle in her eyes and she chuckled softly, sobering at once, "he's angry with me."  
  
"I guess he's more angry with himself than with you."  
  
"He hasn't found me out then?"  
  
"Found you out?"  
  
"I was," Etcetera looked around her as if afraid that Pouncival would descend upon her at any moment like a vengeful angel, "doing a portrait of…Jemi and …Tumble."  
  
"Pounce said he'd seen you sketching Jemi, but…"  
  
She sighed, "I wanted it to be a surprise. Thought it would be something to remember the two of them by, something durable yet light and transparent. I was hoping it'd get Pounce out of this lethargy he's been in of late. He missed Tumble and…" she was smiling almost self-deprecatingly now, "I wanted him to come back to me."  
  
"I'm sorry…"  
  
Quaxo looked up, seeing Pouncival standing in the doorway and took his cue to leave him and Etcetera alone. Electra was waiting for him as he appeared, holding out her paw, "Care for a walk?"  
  
It was no surprise to Quaxo and Electra when their friends officially declared their matehood two weeks later, in fact they had made a bet as to when the event would take place. The young queen won, since the black tom had supposed Pouncival to be a little longer in openly acknowledging the bond.  
  
Later that evening, Etcetera visited her queen friend and as she was about to leave again, pulled Quaxo to the side,  
"Could you do me a favour?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Pounce won't let me out of his sight and I can't get at my portrait…I'd really like to finish it though, for him and…for me. As a token of our being together, as a memory of the uncertainty of life."  
  
The black tom smiled, "What d'ya want me to do?"  
  
"Could you…I've got some sketches on paper and maybe you could use your…magic to…"  
  
"…finish the glass etching?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Just tell me where to find everything."  
  
Etcetera hugged him, whispering the exact location of her little hiding place into his ear. It seemed she had brought her things there as soon as she was back home, to make sure that Pouncival wouldn't throw them away.  
  
Quaxo took Electra with him the next morning and they sat together, holding each other's paw as they perused the pages with the coal drawings and the pieces of broken glass. There was a frame just large enough for two of these pieces - one of them, Jemi's portrait, was almost done, while Tumble's head was only sketched into the glass as a whispery outline.  
  
"She must've spent ages doing this."  
  
"Pounce wasn't home a lot, I guess that's what she occupied herself with."  
  
"Can you finish it for her?"  
  
"Let's see…"  
  
Quaxo spent the better part of the day on his task. He laid the two finished coal drawings behind the glass and then concentrated on moving the little jewel across the smooth surface, following the lines much like Etcetera had done, but he didn't slip for his paws never touched either the jewel or the glass and each line was perfectly done as if he were painting with soft, smearing coal…  
  
"Are you sure we won't be…disturbing them?"  
  
"Nonsense, they're both up early…"  
  
Electra was grinning, as she knocked on top of the huge industrial pipe that had become Pouncival's and Etcetera's home. The sound reverberated through the thick metal and moments later, the mottled tom's ruffled head fur and a wide yawn greeted them,  
"Quax, El…come on in!"  
  
Quaxo carefully lifted the bundle he was carrying, making sure not to dislodge the rag that covered the wooden frame into which he had inserted the finished shards of glass.  
  
The black tom wasn't sure whether he was supposed to make a speech or something when he found his friends looking at him expectantly a few minutes later, but Electra took matters into her own paws, taking the bundle from him and handing it over without further ado,  
"A belated matehood present…or request, whatever you may wanna call it."  
  
Etcetera glanced at Pouncival a little uncertainly while he helped her unwrap the frame and then she didn't even look at the finished product, keeping her eyes on her mate to gauge his reaction. It was mainly surprise, though there was a touch, almost of bitterness in his features. He stared at his brother's fragile glass portrait, then he gently laid the frame down and hugged Etcetera tightly.  
  
Quaxo and Electra had, in the meantime, tried to creep out again, seeing that their presence wasn't exactly necessary at that point, but they had barely reached the door when the young queen murmured, "Thank you." They both smiled and waved, slipping out into the crisp, cold morning air.  
  
"I guess he likes it," Electra mumbled, taking Quaxo's paw tightly into her own as they strolled back to their own home.  
  
It was around Christmas that Quaxo decided to pay a short visit to his human family. He thought it would be better not to let them doubt his existence, for all that he hadn't turned up for ages. But when he reached the house, he found the windows shuttered and nowhere could he find a trace of Bello or the humans.  
  
The car they usually went about in didn't seem to be there either and therefore he slipped away again, his paws numbed by the snow already, calling at Victoria Grove in the hopes of finding out where the family had gone to.  
  
"Aye, 'aven't 'eard anythin' new, 'aven't seen them either. Might 'ave gone ta see some relatives for Christmas, ya know. No need ta worry, Quax, really."  
  
Rumpleteazer smiled encouragingly, licking her mate's ears as he spoke. Quaxo looked away, a little embarrassed, unsure whether he was truly welcome. That question settled itself moments later, when a pillow hit him on the head,  
"Quaxo, 'ey! Ya canna come ta visit and then doze off! We 'ave the 'ouse ta ourselves taday, the family's gone. Race ya ta the attic and back!"  
  
Mungojerrie grinned, jumping up and throwing another pillow at Quaxo. The calico queen let loose her infamous giggle pouncing on the black tom's tail and tugging at it, bounding away from him before he could turn around.  
  
"I'll get you, you two!"  
  
And the three of them were racing up and down the stairs in the big mansion, until they fell onto the rug in front of the fireplace, panting and still laughing. They spent the rest of the day catching up on the latest gossip, but still Quaxo felt as if he were missing something in not being able to spend some time with his human family.  
  
Sitting in front of the tire at the junkyard, Quaxo, Demeter and Electra were waiting for Munkustrap and Pouncival to appear with lunch. Etcetera had gone off to say 'hello' to her human family, her mate having promised to pick her up later in the afternoon and escort her home.  
  
It was a chilly morning, yet the sun was out and a few rays drifted onto their fur, not so much warming them, but brightening the wintry grey. Other cats had come to sit in the open area, the place being often used for picnics and the mood in general was playful and easy, unlike in the past weeks.  
  
In fact, Jenny seemed almost exuberant, chatting away with Vicky while Plato lay beside them, head on his paws, an expression of long-suffering boredom on his features.  
  
Suddenly, a loud hiss penetrated the gentle murmur and the Jellicles looked up to see what had inspired such a reaction. It was a bent, staggering form, grey and shaggy that had appeared at the edge of the junk piles. She didn't move forward, just stood there and Demeter gazed at her thoughtfully, rising and moving towards her.  
  
Electra followed close at her heels and even Vicky approached the old cat…a queen it seemed, about Gus' age.  
  
Before any of the young ones had reached her though, Jenny blocked their path, hissing low in her throat. It was with a look of utter disgust that she turned to the bedraggled cat, lashing out at her until she stumbled back, vanishing amidst the junk.  
  
Quaxo looked after her, his heart beating, something inside him reaching out, wanting to touch the old queen. He had seen the pain of rejection on her face and he wondered what it was that she had done to deserve such treatment at Jenny's paws. Not that he wondered at the orange tabby's fervour…but he still couldn't quite comprehend the causes of and the reasons behind her actions.  
  
When Demeter and Electra returned to sit with him, he looked questioningly at them and the elder queen sighed,  
"Her name's Grizabella. I've seen her about when I was still with…Macavity," speaking the ginger tom's name was hard for Demeter still, but only a shadow passing across her eyes betrayed the intense emotion she connected with him now.  
  
"She's a stray, but none of Macavity's kind. I heard she was a Jellicle once, that she left the tribe and is now an outcast. What she did I couldn't say, only that life hasn't been kind to her, she's had to sell herself on the streets for a living as far as I know. No friends, no family, no place she belongs to."  
  
Quaxo looked at the place where she had stood, frowning. 'Grizabella', a beautiful name. And now she was reduced to this, coming here, to the tribe that had cast her out as if begging - for recognition, for love.  
  
His emotions must have shown on his face, for Electra rubbed up against him and licked his cheek. He put his arm around her tightly, his eyes still searching the spot where the old queen had disappeared.  
  
That night, as he lay cuddled up to Electra's dark form, Grizabella's face haunted him and he couldn't fall asleep. She had touched his heart in a way that no other cat had ever had, there was recognition, understanding.  
  
Carefully, he disentangled himself from the young queen, brushing across her back softly when she murmured in her sleep. Looking back at her to see if she was still asleep, he stole into the night.  
  
He concentrated hard trying to find the old cat, her face imprinted in his mind already. His instincts and some subtle use of his powers led him to search in the darker alleys around Tottenham Court Road and it wasn't long before he found her huddled behind a trash can that shielded her from the worst winds.  
  
"Grizabella?"  
  
His voice rang out clearly and probably far too loud in the quiet side street for the shivering form backed away from him, haunted blue eyes gazing up at him almost fearfully. Yet there was a stubborn pride in the way the old queen kept her chin up, a solemn dignity in her posture despite her ragged appearance.  
  
"My name is Quaxo. We didn't quite meet today…at the junkyard…"  
  
Something stirred in her as her face betrayed anxiety and…delight? She stood up slowly, still keeping as far away from him as she could and extended her paw. It shook a little, whether from fear or the cold the young tom couldn't have said.  
  
He edged closer to her, carefully measuring each step and stopped two arms' length away from her. He reached out, brushing her paw with his, almost startled at the stark contrast his dark fur was to her greyish white.  
  
She stood there, close to the wall, a sliver of moonlight falling upon her and she seemed to glow. In this moment the years seemed to fall off her and he saw the young cat she had once been - vibrant, playful, full of joy and laughter. He almost heard her clear, strong voice as she sang and danced with the other Jellicles at her first Ball…  
  
"Quaxo."  
  
The tone was soft, yet the voice sounded strained, raw and hoarse - as hard as the lines in her face and the tangled fur covering a far too thin frame. Quaxo smiled, hoping to encourage her and began to purr quietly when she stroked his paw.  
  
Her eyes widened and she grabbed his arm, drawing him closer towards her. They were almost the same height, the young tom being fairly small and as their gazes met, he shuddered at the intense scrutiny.  
  
Though miserable, this queen had nothing of the loser in her - she was determined to survive, if nothing else, as if it were a defiance of her status, of a lonely life, of an often wished for death.  
  
"You shouldn't be here, young one," it was a try at a derisive snort, but it came out too warm, tinged with too much longing and anticipation. Quaxo smiled as he slowly laid his head on her shoulder, rubbing against her.  
  
"I don't take orders from those who should know better."  
  
Understanding dawned, but her eyes were still wary, as if she couldn't quite believe that he had come to seek her to be with her, not to sneer at or torment her.  
  
"Go back home, Quaxo. This is no place for you."  
  
She was sending him away though he saw her warring with her pride, saw how hard it was for her to tell him to leave. She was lonely, cold and hungry and he was the first being she had talked to, the first she had touched in a very long time. Even as he sensed it, he drew back and mumbled, "Wait here."  
  
Bounding out of the alley and hiding behind a parked car, his heart hammering in his chest, he conjured up a bowl of cream, two mice and a fluffy warm rug. Suddenly he stopped, staring at his paws. He could never explain to her where he had gotten all of this from. Especially not the cream. No normal cat would run around in the middle of the night carrying a bowl of cream, that much was certain.  
  
Opting for the less obvious approach, Quaxo grabbed the rug and one of the mice, making the other things disappear with a wave of his paw. Returning to the alley where he had left the old queen, he saw her sitting in the exact same spot he had first noticed her at, leaning against the trash can.  
  
He walked up to her, holding out the rug and when she raised her eyebrows questioningly he shrugged, "I was hoping I'd find you."  
  
The explanation seemed to be good enough for her and she didn't protest when he wrapped her up tightly, offering her the mouse. She reached out then, patting his cheek a little clumsily and nodded, the sad attempt at a smile forming on her lips.  
  
Quaxo settled down beside her, vowing silently that he would make her smile again, a natural, carefree smile as she had once known it. It might not be the right thing to do in the eyes of the tribe, but he sure knew it was the right thing for _him_ to do.  
  
"What are you keeping from me?"  
  
Quaxo looked up, startled, at the young queen in front of him, whose eyes were tired and…sad. It would not do to lie to her, that much was clear. Electra knew him too well to be fooled. So he shook his head, averting his gaze so he would not have to see the pain he caused her by shutting her out.  
  
She didn't say anything else, simply disappeared in the twilight. The black tom hoped he was doing the right thing, that it truly was for the best as he told himself. She had stood by him during the worst time of his life, and now he shunned her…  
  
They had been playing this same sorry game for the past three weeks. He had secretly stolen away at night, sometimes even during the daytime, wondering through the seedy alleys to find an old dilapidated cat, to sit with her, mostly in silence. He hadn't spoken about it to Electra. He just couldn't - it wasn't entirely fair towards her - they were friends and in his feelings for her she was so much more to him.  
  
Yet it was a way of protecting her, if any of the tribe found out he was seeing and supporting Grizabella. He had taken to her, and no wonder, for she was what he had almost become - an outcast. There had been no friends to speak up for her and she was lonely and cold out on the streets. It was winter still and he thought it his duty to take care of her as well as he could.  
  
But Electra wasn't to know. His position in the tribe was still precarious and the old queen was so little likely going to be accepted, that his soft spot for her might lead to his being thrown out, despite the protests this might arouse.  
  
Or he would have to leave - make a choice between the Jellicles and Grizabella. He would stand by her. She wouldn't live all that long anymore, at least he could give her a place where she was wanted, a friend to sit beside her, holding her paw as she died. A bit of warmth and the dignity of a burial when she had passed.  
  
"Quaxo? Is it you?"  
  
The huddled figure in the dark street strained her eyes, as the black tom disengaged from the shadows, smiling,  
"Yes, it's me. How are you tonight?"  
  
"Less cold than I'm used to being. The rug you gave me is wonderful. Very warm and fluffy, like a second fur."  
  
"I brought you some dinner, it isn't much…" his voice trailed off as he offered her the mouse. Electra had caught it for him and left it at their place. He had returned earlier that evening only to find her gone, so he had decided to see to Grizabella, ignoring the gnawing sense of loss in his heart.  
  
"What's wrong, Quaxo? You seem sad tonight." The old queen's voice was slightly raspy and harsh, since she was as yet unused to speak aloud, unused to be heard.  
  
Quaxo smiled, patting her arm and pulling the rug tighter around her,  
"Nothing really. I just had a little…falling out with a…friend."  
  
"The…friend…who caught the mouse? I may not be in top shape, but my sense of smell is excellent and the scent is not yours, but that of a queen's."  
  
"Electra."  
  
"Ah…"  
  
"She…we're…she's sharing a place with me."  
  
"And taking care of you as it seems."  
  
The black tom nodded, settling down beside Grizabella. He sighed softly, shaking his head. It seemed silly to actually want to confide into the queen beside him. As if she could possibly help him…  
  
"I assume you haven't told her you're helping me. And now she's found out you're keeping something from her. And coming home late at night. Maybe she's even smelled another cat on you…"  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I've seen much of the world, Quaxo. And I know quite a few things about love and life. If you tell me what's wrong maybe I can help. After all, I owe you."  
  
"You don't owe me anything!" the voice was indignant.  
  
Grizabella smiled mildly, patting the young tom's cheek, "There is no such thing as giving without taking, my dear. Even if you don't truly 'want' anything in return, you still have a reason for helping me, one that makes sense to you and makes you feel good."  
  
Quaxo shrugged. He had never thought of it that way. The old queen made a sound that seemed suspiciously like a giggle,  
"I hit the mark there, didn't I? Most young cats never think of this. It isn't really important either, it's just something you come up with when there's not much else to do. I've spent a long time on the streets, and when you're cold and hungry you tend to think everything over time and again."  
  
"You might be right," Quaxo started, choosing his words carefully, "I've never truly felt that I belonged…but I had friends and when I…was threatened with being…expatriated…they were there and backed me up. Still, I often felt lonely and unsure and I…"  
  
"You can relate to what I'm feeling? I'm sure you can, Quaxo. Otherwise I don't think you'd be here. Pity only goes that far."  
  
Grizabella looked at the dark eyes that were fixed upon her and gently rubbed her head against Quaxo's, surprised that he didn't move away. Not that she had truly thought he would, but to her touching another cat was still a risk, a great daring that had often resulted in her being pushed roughly away, hissed at and even scratched.  
  
"Tell me about your friend," she urged, her heart beating faster as the young tom smiled, complying and poured out his tale, offering her a chance to counsel him, trusting her with his troubles.  
  
Electra lay on a pile of rugs, shivering. She didn't want to bury herself under the multicoloured layers of cotton and wool, she didn't feel like being warm. She missed Quaxo, and she realised that the reason behind the restlessness she had attributed her sleepless nights to, was no other but the black tom. She worried about him and she was used to his body beside hers, to hearing his heartbeat and having his arms about her.  
  
Finally giving up the hope of his returning that night, she crept out of the oven and slipped through the shadows, climbing up onto Pouncival's favourite chair. It was a sinking feeling that overcame her when she thought about her situation - there was no one she could turn to - Etcy had a mate, and so did Vicky, even though she would not have gone to ask advice of a cat who didn't like Quaxo, and Jemi…  
  
Sighing, she watched her breath form a wispy cloud that tore itself apart as it moved away from her. Electra longed for a warm word, some form of comfort and she was loath to sit around, having no one to be with. She truly had to talk to Quaxo. If he didn't care for her, then maybe she'd better move out and find a measure of peace on her own.  
  
It was very early in the morning when Quaxo woke, Grizabella cuddled up to his side. She came awake almost instantly when he moved and smiled up at him, patting his cheek,  
"You've stayed with me far too long. Go to her - I'll be alright."  
  
The young tom got up, but before he bounded away he turned around once more, laying his paw above his heart, "I won't forget you and I'll be back. Tonight."  
  
A smile played around the corner's of the old queen's mouth as a few tears slipped down her face. For the first time in years she had found a connection with another and for the first time she had not been rebuffed.  
  
"Quaxo." The tone was measured and the black tom didn't like the way Electra's eyes sparkled, darker than usual with an emotion he couldn't define.  
  
"El, I'm…sorry…"  
  
"You won't tell me what's wrong. That's fine. Unless it has something to do with your not wanting me to be around. Then I'd appreciate you honestly telling me to leave. That it's over…whatever's between us."  
  
She almost choked upon the last words, keeping her eyes fixed on a point just behind Quaxo, unable to look directly at him, tears brimming that she refused to shed. The young tom looked at her, helplessly, speechless.  
  
How could she think he didn't care? Had he really been that negligent of her? The thought made his blood run cold. He couldn't let her go, couldn't lose her - not even for Grizabella, not even for the motherly comfort her touch gave to him…  
  
"El, please, I…" he was stammering like an idiot. It just wouldn't do. He squared his shoulders, stepping closer, wincing as she withdrew, keeping just out of arm's reach.  
  
"I care for you…very much so. What I can't tell you is…I feel it would be better if you didn't know. It's not about you…"  
  
"Oh yes, it is! You can't trust me! You don't dare trust me with whatever's so precious to you!" She was looking at him now, wiping away a few tears angrily, her eyes blazing, "I'm not a plaything, Quaxo! I thought you respected me, at least enough not to do this, not to lie to me. You're evading me, shunning my presence! What am I supposed to think? That you're shy? Face it, Quaxo, I know you too well - you're many things, but NOT SHY!"  
  
Misery was radiating from her and the black tom didn't need to hear her words to know he had hurt her, more than he had thought possible. If he told her what he truly felt for her she would most certainly not believe him now. She'd attribute his 'love' to a desire to assuage his guilt for not being there of late.  
  
Electra was still glaring at Quaxo, but he couldn't find anything to say, there was no way he could explain himself. She shook her head as she turned around, her tail drooping. She didn't look back as she stumbled away, her vision blurred from the tears. He didn't hold her back though he held out his paw as if to stop her…  
  
"Grizabella?"  
  
"Yes, Quaxo, I'm here."  
  
The ragged form of the old queen, wrapped tightly in the warm rug dragged herself up to him. Taking in his appearance she opened her arms and he let her hug him tightly, shivering slightly in her embrace.  
  
It wasn't long before he broke away though and his voice held a tinge of panic, "She thinks I don't care…I couldn't tell her…she said I didn't trust her…I hurt her, she was crying…said I couldn't respect her, didn't dare trust her…what…I must do something, I…"  
  
"Now, there, Quaxo, calm down," a grey paw stroked his cheek gently and another one took his arm as she guided him into a dark, dirty corner of the alley. They sat down and Grizabella pulled the young tom close to her, holding him like a kitten and patting his head, "It'll be alright, dear, I'm sure it will."  
  
As the winter sluggishly turned towards its end and the first spring flowers began to push their delicate heads through the cold soil, Quaxo and Electra didn't speak to each other any longer. Neither of them could find the words though both yearned for a smile, a touch, some sort of contact from which they would draw the warmth that was so sorely missing.  
  
Grizabella had taken to appearing at the junkyard now and then over the past weeks. She never came too close, silently watching from the distance until she was chased away, most often by Jenny. Quaxo didn't defend her, keeping his promise to let her deal with the tribe on her own which she had extracted from him.  
  
Still he sought her out almost every evening and they talked for hours, sharing their experiences, their sorrows and joys. They had much in common, not only in their history but also in their personality, their beliefs and their ways of communicating their views.  
  
Yet though he enjoyed the sensible conversation and the motherly warmth that Grizabella gave him, Quaxo felt as alone as never before. His friends were occupied with their own lives and now that the cold season was almost over, they concentrated more and more on their tasks with little time left to spare for him.  
  
Demeter had offered Munkustrap her help when he decided to redecorate his place - most of the tribe could guess at the reason for that decision of course - and they could be found together constantly, engaged in discussing the colours of rugs and the placement of the old human books and manuscripts that the tabby delighted in collecting.  
  
To Quaxo's great surprise it seemed as if romance were finally blossoming between Tugger and Bombalurina. He hadn't been blind to their strong attraction yet he had not supposed they would ever settle down together so quietly and harmoniously. They didn't make a grand affair out of their moving in with each other, though the whole junkyard knew even before they did. Nor could they keep their long walks and excursions a secret.  
  
At any other time, the black tom would have been overjoyed for them but even though he told Grizabella of the new developments and amused her with his dry and witty comments on the new situation he himself felt left out and it was in the quiet hours with the old queen that he missed Electra most urgently.  
  
"I have something to tell you, Quaxo."  
  
The young tom looked up at Grizabella expectantly, a little surprised at the seriousness in her tone, though she was smiling at him.  
  
"I've thought about you and Electra a lot lately and…let me tell you a story. When I was a young queen I thought that the world held wonders and joys above any I had ever seen. That was why I turned my back on the tribe and went out to look for them. With the tribe I also left my lover behind, a tom I cared for very much."  
  
She averted her eyes for a moment and laid her paw on Quaxo's arm,  
"I won't tell you who it was, for it is unimportant now. I lost him the day I walked out of the gate. But I didn't realise what it was that was missing in my life for a long time - I had the glamour and attention, but not the warmth and love. There were many toms, but there was only one who ever truly cared for me."  
  
She was smiling openly now, putting her determination and conviction into every word,  
"Don't be afraid. You are running away now, and you too are looking for a better life of sorts - for love and affection. But you have begun to feel that the 'better' life is sometimes right where you started. So go back, retrace your steps. Explain yourself to Electra. Tell her you wanted to protect her, that you need her, that she's uppermost in your thoughts and in your heart."  
  
Quaxo shook his head, stubbornly pursing his lips, "She won't listen. I can't look at her - she'd be angry…her eyes…I can't…"  
  
"Then don't speak to her, write her a letter as the humans do - or a poem, a story, make a novel out of your feelings by all means, but _do_ something, Quaxo, anything! Don't be one of those who look back on their lives and find that they missed out on it all - risk offering her your heart - at least you won't have to ask yourself 'what would have been if'."  
  
The black tom didn't look convinced, yet he knew himself that something had to be done, that he couldn't keep it all hanging suspended in mid-air, like a threat. He was miserable enough as it was - a rejection couldn't possible make him feel any worse. So he nodded, though pride and fear warred in his eyes still.  
  
"You'd better go now, get yourself some paper and a pen. Expressing your feelings might take a little while."  
  
Quaxo stood up, a little uncertainly, but the old queen patted his arm and smiled encouragingly, "I'll be fine. And…Quaxo? You might ask her for a meeting at a certain spot if she has decided to forgive you. That way neither of you will be forced to publicly humiliate themselves to find out if what the other said or thinks is true."  
  
Hiding out in his pipe beside the tire, Quaxo conjured up a stack of writing paper and a quill and ink like one of the old writers of Munkustrap's human classics might have used. He thought for a moment that Electra would surely laugh at him sitting in the darkness like that.  
  
A wave of his hand brought illumination enough to write comfortably, but the words wouldn't come. How in the world was he to start? 'I love you' - that didn't even sound right at the end of a letter, it was something you said, not wrote - too personal to be expressed in sluggish paw-writing.  
  
With a sigh, the black tom began scribbling notes and impressions on the first page, filling another and then another, letting all of his feelings flow freely into his quill. Never before had he written as much down he did now, in a jumble of words, phrases and sentences.  
  
It seemed only a short time later, though the moon had waned and dawn was approaching already when Quaxo put one last, fat dot onto the paper in front of him. It was by no means a letter yet, but it was a start. Gathering his utensils together, he conjured up a nice knapsack to put them all into and hid it at the back of the pipe.  
  
Then he curled up around himself, closing his eyes and falling asleep when the first rays of the morning sun flooded the horizon.  
  
Quaxo passed quite a few nights like this, sitting alone in his pipe, writing, revising and now and then burning up a bundle of pages. In fact, he was so caught up in his task that, at one time, he almost set his tail on fire because he had forgotten to throw the paper out of the pipe and ignite it in the open air.  
  
Throughout the days he either slept, or stole silently about, trying not to come across any of his friends and to evade Electra altogether. He wasn't always lucky though, for once he ran into Jenny who was having a fit about something Vicky had done or not done - at least she was mumbling the young queen's name in a very agitated sort of voice as she shuffled past him, barely noticing his presence.  
  
And then there was the lovely morning he met Pouncival who looked like one of those pages that Quaxo had folded time and again until it was creased and the writing blurred beyond recognition. The mottled tom seemed to have had little or no sleep, his eyes were big and his frown gave the impression he was as ancient a cat as Old Deuteronomy.  
  
"Quaxo! Goodness, I'm so glad I see you - do you know anything? I mean, Etcy won't talk to me, but maybe to Electra…and then El would tell you and…"  
  
The black tom didn't think the time was right to get into a discussion about his problems with the dark queen, so he contented himself with merely shaking his head and asking, in a carefully schooled, quiet voice,  
"What's wrong, Pounce?"  
  
A huge sigh followed and, taking his friend by the arm, Pouncival drew him towards his favourite spot, the old chair. They climbed up the junk pile and seated themselves on the lofty height, letting the brisk spring wind ruffle their fur.  
  
"Etcy's changed. She's got nightmares or something and she won't say what's wrong. Just shakes her head and I…I lie awake watching her, hoping I can do something. She scares me, Quax. I haven't got the slightest idea what could be bothering her."  
  
What could he say to that? Nothing. He had neither noticed that Etcetera was different of late, nor did he think it was any of his business. Yet - Pouncival hadn't indicated any falling out, any misunderstanding or quarrel between them.  
  
"I don't know Pounce. I wish I could help, but I really don't know." A thought occurred to him then, "Have you asked Vicky?"  
  
"Vicky?" a derisive snort, "As if Etcy talked to her about private things. They get along fine, but…Jemi was her closest friend I think and then El. Vicky was just someone she hung out with."  
  
"What about Jenny then? Maybe she's sick?"  
  
Quaxo regretted having brought that particular issue up the moment he saw his friend's face. If it was possible for any more worried creases to appear in it, they certainly did then.  
  
"Just a thought. You'd know if she was ill, I'm sure."  
  
He had to think of something, much as he wanted to just leave the other tom to fend for his own. They were friends and even though his own life was complicated enough at the moment he owed him a bit of help - and comfort if he could possibly give it.  
  
"Know what? Why don't we go see Rumpleteazer? She's been close to Etcy of late, she might know more. And then we'll go and look for…Electra."  
  
If Pouncival noticed the wistful sound that came out along with the young queen's name he didn't comment on it.  
  
"And now stop frowning - I swear, if you keep it up you'll look like a dachshund in his best years!"  
  
A glare and a badly aimed swat convinced him that he had hit his mark, and Quaxo jumped off the chair, racing down the junk pile at top speed, following by a distinctly chuckling Pouncival…  
  
The visit to Rumpleteazer yielded no results at all, though she promised to see what she could find out,  
"I'll just go and talk ta 'er, wouldna worry too much, Pounce. I'm sure it's nothin' bad, otherwise she'd 'ave told ya."  
  
Quaxo dreaded his promise to see Electra now, but he was spared having to face her because Jenny descended on them as soon as they entered the junkyard, words spilling from her lips that sounded suspiciously like curses as she ushered them to her place.  
  
Taking Pouncival by the scruff of the neck, she propelled him in front of Etcetera who lay on a blanket, looking exhausted and…pained. Quaxo would have slipped out immediately, but his friend had taken a death grip of his wrist and was holding him tightly. Jenny had miraculously disappeared as the young queen, looking at the wall in front of her began in a small voice,  
"A month ago…I…was pregnant and…lost the kittens. It just…happened. Jenny said it was…nothing to worry about and…then I…got…now…I'm… pregnant again and…I'm frightened…I don't want to…"  
  
Pouncival finally released his friend, crawling up to his mate and hugging her tightly, "I thought you knew there was nothing you can't talk to me about, love. We'll get through this, together," he whispered and Quaxo chose that moment to slip away unobserved.  
  
He went back to his pipe, the event having made it painfully clear to him that he needed to settle things with Electra, once and for all. Taking up his quill, he began to write…  
  
His heart was beating rapidly as he put the letter on the pile of rugs he and Electra had used as a bed later that night. She had not yet come home, it seemed and instinct told him to worry, even though he had seen her walk past the tire in direction of Pounce's and Etcy's dwelling.  
  
Slipping away into the night again quietly, he walked around the junkyard, ending the night huddled in his pipe, unable to sleep.  
  
He would know tomorrow. Not much longer to wait, he told himself. And yet it was hard and he didn't truly want to be alone that night. But Grizabella had firmly insisted on his clearing the air, that she would be just fine, that she had her rug and was comfortable enough…for a cat living on the streets.  
  
He ran over the contents of his letter while he lay there, admonishing himself for having left out so much and said so little though he had brooded for almost a week about the right choice of words…  
  
_El,  
I'm sorry that I've hurt you and I wish there was something I could say to make it alright again. All I can do in this letter is explain. I have kept something from you and I still believe it was better that way.  
I've been seeing Grizabella and talking to her in the past weeks. We get on very well, she's become a friend to me, much like a mother in a way. She understands me and I pick up on things that she doesn't say at times.  
But I know the tribe wouldn't be in favour of this friendship and I can't ask you to share in any consequences that I might have to carry should it come out. You've stood by me before and you suffered for it - I know it wasn't easy. I don't want to subject you to such a thing again.  
And no matter what comes of this, El, I do care for you. And the last thing I could wish for is not to have you in my life. I need you. You are the most important queen for me and I can't imagine being without you.  
I don't know if you can forgive me for hurting you, it was unintentional, though that doesn't mean a thing now. Give me a chance to be your friend again, I'll be waiting for you tomorrow at midnight at the pipe next to the tire.  
Quaxo._  
  
Should he have written 'love, Quaxo'? it was the least of his concerns, of course, but yet it seemed very important in the long hours. Maybe he had been too impersonal? Had he blamed her for a lack of understanding? He hadn't meant to, he had revised the letter so carefully - it was no one's fault in a way, this quarrel - or was it? Had he truly hurt her because deep down inside he didn't want her?  
  
Closing his eyes at last and trying to draw long, steadying breaths, Quaxo contemplated that thought only to come to the realisation that he really loved Electra. There was nothing fishy, nothing dishonest about it. His feelings were there and he hadn't been mistaken.  
  
He could offer her his heart. All of him if she would have him. A smile played around his lips. At least he knew where _he_ stood, now all that remained was to hear what Electra had to say.  
  
Quaxo spent the next day in various stages of fear, excitement and uncertainty. The hours didn't seem to pass by and finally he opted for a crazy run through the streets around the junkyard to while away some of the time. This only resulted in his lying, panting near his pipe, with the whole afternoon still in front of him.  
  
The next best thing that came to his mind was to pay Old Deuteronomy a visit - maybe he could ask Gus to tell him some stories about his time at the theatre too, that would at least be something to concentrate on.  
  
As it turned out, the grey Jellicle leader was more than happy to see the young tom,  
"Gus isn't doing so well, you know. He's talking to Jelly more and more and now and then he tries to pat her arm or cheek and then he reaches into thin air and wonders. He thinks she's drawing away from him, that he's done something wrong and I just can't make him believe anything else."  
  
Quaxo nodded and, having asked Deuteronomy if it was safe to ask about the theatre, joined the old tom at his place on the windowsill.  
  
"Hi, Gus! I…"  
  
"Quaxo? So glad someone's coming at all - Jelly hasn't turned up yet, I really don't know where that queen's at all the time. You haven't seen her, have you?"  
  
The watery, failing eyes were full of hope as they fixed on the young tom and he had a lump in his throat as he replied, in as cheerful a voice as he could manage,  
"Oh, yes, I did see her as I came. She was in a hurry, said she was on an errand for Jenny and asked me to keep you company for a while. She seemed sorry not to be able to come herself, especially cause she might not make it at all today…"  
  
Gus sighed, his tail drooping and his shoulders sacking in a little more, "Of course. Poor thing, I'm always telling her to come and visit and there she does have a life of her own. I am an old selfish cat."  
  
"Oh no, you aren't! And Jelly loves being with you, she adores your stories! Jenny just needs her a lot lately, that's all. I'm sure she'd rather spend time with you than be sent about town."  
  
The theatre cat brightened up just a bit at his words, and Quaxo thought it high time to change the subject, to avoid having to lie any more,  
"Jelly in particular liked to hear about your working in Vienna - she was so enthusiastic about it - would you tell me as well?"  
  
The young tom smiled when Gus nodded, almost curtly, focusing on the cemetery that was visible from the window, eyes unseeing as he replayed the scenes, remembered the past times.  
  
"Vienna is a beautiful city, mind you. I came there when I was still a very young tom, hadn't been with the theatre for very long. It was only a short visit - the human I was staying with at the time had been invited to perform at the 'Burgtheater', 'Pygmalion' by Shaw it was I think, and he took me with him."  
  
A soft pat on his shoulder made Quaxo look up and smile as Old Deuteronomy seated himself at his side, both turning towards Gus again and listening to his voice getting more and more forceful as he related his story,  
"I wasn't supposed to be on stage then, of course - I wasn't then fully trained. But I did get to be a an extra; my human put me on a couch and there I lay, playing a pussy cat. It was my first appearance, really. And I did very well indeed, I must say. I remember that I was even called forth to appear beside the humans at the curtain call. It was a great honour to be so singled out, you know and I learned a great deal in terms of acting. There was, for example, that scene where one of the actresses sat down on my tail…"  
  
Electra was still foremost on Quaxo's mind, yet he listened patiently to the old theatre cat's elaborations and found himself drawn into his world despite his thoughts. It was hard to be disinterested in Gus' stories, he had a way of speaking and a manner and tone of voice that commanded attention and showed a glimpse of the grand actor he had once been.  
  
It was already long past sunset when Quaxo set off back to junkyard. Gus had talked on about playing Shakespeare and Wilde, about the only correct way to treat human actors if you wanted to be noticed and about how to get one's own personal dressing room.  
  
When the church clock struck nine, the old cat had quieted down somewhat and he fell asleep not long after, Deuteronomy having urged him to lie down and rest his back before continuing his story.  
  
The young tom was saddened by this visit - to have heard again of a time that was so long gone, to have seen the shadow of loss in Gus' eyes as he spoke of what could never be again - and to know that the one cat who had truly understood him best had left him as well… As implausible as it seemed, Quaxo somehow knew that the old tom had felt she had passed out of his life, even if he hadn't quite understood that she was dead.  
  
His heart was heavy when he reached the tire and he was weary in a way that was not merely physical. He didn't look around as he walked up to his pipe, since it was yet two more hours before his appointed meeting with Electra.  
  
Cuddling up tightly, he closed his eyes and almost instantly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.  
  
When he woke, he noticed the bright rays of the sun with a start. He must have missed her coming. Or she hadn't come at all. Neither of these possibilities were especially nice to contemplate, of course.  
  
"Morning."  
  
A soft touch to his shoulder and he whirled around, coming nose to nose with Electra. She gave him a wobbly sort of smile, averting her eyes moments later,  
"You were sleeping and you looked so tired I didn't want to wake you."  
  
"I'm…sorry." Quaxo did know his voice was shaking a little, but he couldn't care, focusing solely on the young queen beside him, the lingering bristle of her fur against his side.  
  
"I read the letter."  
  
She seemed more than a little embarrassed and lost for words. The black tom knew exactly how she felt - he himself couldn't really think of anything to say that might have made the situation any less awkward.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Hardly a whisper, but Quaxo's ears were very good. His heart beat very hard all of a sudden as he reached out, slowly, meeting Electra's gaze and said, as solemnly and with as much conviction as he could,  
"And I you."  
  
A smile lit up her face then and her eyes sparkled as she moved closer, cuddling up against him, purring and rubbing her head against his cheek. He held her tightly as they huddled in the small pipe, the need for words having abated for the moment, content to just be with each other.  
  
A spring shower began to fall heavily around noon, sending all cats to their dwellings. Quaxo and Electra remained where they were, talking.  
  
"You don't need to protect me, I'm quite good at taking care of myself. And I wouldn't have stood beside you if I hadn't wanted to. I can decide for myself, you know."  
  
It was an admonishment, but a warm one and the black tom didn't mind in the least as he conceded her point with an affectionate nuzzle.  
  
"It is too late to ask you now, but… Is it alright with you if I see Grizabella?"  
  
"You don't need my permission."  
  
"But I would like to have your opinion."  
  
"I don't know her. I trust your judgement though and it seems she's a nice cat, no matter what the tribe says. I would…like to meet her if you'd take me."  
  
Quaxo smiled, eyeing her a little uncertainly, "You don't have to."  
  
"She's a friend of yours and as such I'd like to make her acquaintance."  
  
"Then I'll gladly introduce you."  
  
Electra giggled, swatting at his paw as he tickled her side, licking her nose. She buried her face in his neck, holding onto him tightly as he began to purr low in his throat.  
  
"Quaxo." Grizabella acknowledged the young tom with a warm smile, nodding curtly at the dark form of the queen at his side.  
  
"Grizabella, this is Electra. Electra - Grizabella."  
  
Electra stepped forward, holding out her paw to the bedraggled cat, smiling a little unsurely, "Hi, it's nice to meet you. Quaxo has told me a lot about you."  
  
Grizabella shook the offered paw solemnly, pleased to see Quaxo's happy grin,  
"I have the feeling I don't need to ask how you've been; you're radiating content, my dear and I'm glad to have finally met the reason."  
  
Electra's smile widened, and she cast an almost shy glance at the young tom behind her, "Quaxo said it was your idea to write the letter. Thank you."  
  
"I'm glad it worked, my dear. Now, do tell me - are you going to redecorate your place? From what I heard it's still only rudimentary furnished."  
  
"Well, we haven't really talked about it yet…but I would like to make it a little more comfortable."  
  
"Do you have any ideas, Grizabella?"  
  
The old queen grinned, sitting down on her rug and patting the space beside her. The young cats joined her and soon they were engaged in a lively discussion on the brightest colours for rugs and the best materials to be chosen.  
  
It wasn't long before Quaxo could see that Electra and Grizabella were taking to each other, regardless of the connection they shared through him. Putting his arm around his mate, he listened to their friendly conversation, his mind completely at rest.  
  
Through the friendship that had sprung up between Electra and Grizabella, Quaxo now found it very easy to be with both of them - in fact, he didn't spend much time alone at all.  
  
It was with a little trepidation that he informed the old queen of his magical abilities, but she reacted like his mate had, with a little surprise and without further comment on it. The black tom wasn't quite sure why he had kept this information to himself for so long; after all, Grizabella was the least likely to find a magical cat unnatural, frightening or offensive.  
  
The name of 'Mr. Mistoffelees' was hardly ever heard in the tribe, overlooking the whispered conversations that are part of every little group's gossip. And Quaxo had to admit that he preferred his first second name - it was the ordinary, unobtrusive, Jellicle part of him. The magical cat was a bit of a mystery still, a challenge, someone to discover at length and much more closely linked to Macavity, to the tom he had struck down…  
  
It still hurt to think of what had happened that day, even though Quaxo had managed to accept it. Forgiveness would not come, however - he couldn't help but thinking there might have been some other way. Yet other things occupied him and with time, as the birds began to sing, then to build their nests and then to mate he found a certain comfort in letting the memory fade into the back of his mind.  
  
Etcetera's pregnancy went well, despite her fears and though Quaxo knew Pouncival to be nervousness and anxiety personified - especially in the last weeks - the birth of three lovely little kittens was a joyful and memorable occasion.  
  
Late one night, Electra grew restless and finally mumbled something about going to check up on her friend. The black tom, trusting her instinct, went along with her, only to find half of the tribe sitting in front of the young couple's dwelling.  
  
"Queens always know when one of them's having their kittens," Tugger whispered to Quaxo, winking before he received a soft slap on his backside. Turning his attention back to Bombalurina, he soon was engaged in a game of catch, much to the amusement of the other cats, who either grinned, chuckled or laughed outright at the spectacle those two made of themselves.  
  
Shortly before dawn, when most of the tribe had already fallen asleep, Quaxo and Electra were still cuddling, tapping each other's noses gently with their paws to pass the time. They were the first to notice Jenny appear at the entrance, a wide smile on her features that hadn't been seen since the day her mate had died.  
  
Since no one was paying her the appropriate attention, she clapped her paws loudly and then declared proudly, "Two queens and a tom, all of them healthy and as cute as can be!"  
  
Still yawning, the tribe got to their feet, a few of the sleepier ones were shaken forcibly before actually being able to process the information they had just received and Munkustrap led them all in their recitation of the prayer to the Everlasting Cat,  
  
"The mystical divinity of unashamed felinity  
Round the cathedral rang 'Vivat',  
Life to the Everlasting Cat!  
Feline, fearless, faithful and true  
As Jellicles are and Jellicles do."  
  
There was none among the assembled who had forgotten that not quite half a year ago, a few members of their tribe had passed away, accompanied by almost the same words. It was a tradition to both bid farewell and welcome Jellicle cats the same way, marking the connection between death and life and the possibility of rebirth and a new chance.  
  
The group dispersed after the ritual welcome, individual visits to the young couple and their litter would follow in the course of the next few days and about a week was to pass before the kittens were officially named and made part of the tribe, the latter being accomplished by their final introduction at the Jellicle Ball.  
  
Electra and Quaxo - the latter having conjured up three lovely white mice for the kits to play with, each with a differently coloured ribbon - were among the firsts to congratulate their friends. Pouncival was grinning like a mad-cat, and Etcetera was smiling happily as she cuddled the three fur balls to her.  
  
"Found any names yet?"  
  
"Well…yes, we have."  
  
"But you won't tell?" Electra was chuckling at the slightly embarrassed look the couple exchanged.  
  
"Actually, we did want to ask you for a favour."  
  
Quaxo cocked his head and pricked up his ears, nodding solemnly and managing a very dignified expression that was only belied by the twinkle in his eyes and the smile playing around the corners of his mouth.  
  
Pouncival laughed, "Ok, stop looking like that Quax! We'll just ask."  
  
Etcetera patted the kittens' heads as she said, "It's a great responsibility - but we'd like you and El to be godparents to these two here," she picked up the brightly striped tom who sported a black spot across his eyes and the white queen with the dark patches and held them out to her friends.  
  
Quaxo didn't quite like the idea of being godfather to any kitten - that was too close to being a father himself, but Electra only squealed with delight and took up the little fluffy ball, hugging it tightly, "Sure I want to!"  
  
She gave her mate a look that clearly said 'Oh come on, it's not as if you were forced to do something excruciatingly bad' and the black tom sighed, taking his god-kitten up and receiving a swat on his nose from a tiny paw. "He seems to like me already," he mumbled a little dejectedly, but he couldn't help joining in the laughs that broke out at his stoic comment.  
  
"Who'll be godparent to your third one then - Rumple?"  
  
"No. We were thinking of asking Jenny."  
  
"Mungo and Rumple are very kind - but they like roaming about, and their style of life isn't exactly exemplary."  
  
Quaxo laughed, "No, probably not…"  
  
He broke off when he saw the orange tabby standing at the entrance, her face displaying a slight frown, "You should take care of yourself Etcetera…" she began, but the young queen cut her short.  
  
"Oh come on, Jenny - those two are my best friends! And guess what - they just agreed to be godparents for two of our kits!"  
  
The black tom couldn't help but hear the undercurrent of quiet warning in Etcetera's voice and he felt sorry for the elder cat, realizing how hard it had to be for her to be confronted with such a blatant misjudgement as she sure thought his taking the responsibility for an innocent kitten to be.  
  
However, what surprised him the most was Pouncival's standing up and taking Jenny's arm, making her sit down with them and placing the third fur ball into her lap. His eyes were pleading and warm as he spoke, his paw resting on orange tabby's arm,  
"We'd like to name her Jelly - she looks a little like Jellylorum I think and…we were hoping you'd be her godmother…regardless of any reservations you might have about our friends."  
  
A peace offer that Quaxo knew Jenny wouldn't turn down; he had to hand it to Pouncival - he sure knew how to get to the elder queen. She was nodding silently, her eyes filling with tears as she impulsively reached out to hug him close. Purring, the mottled tom rubbed his head against hers and the kitten started meowing just then, breaking the sentimentality that hung in the air.  
  
"Now…what about those two darlings? Are you gonna tell us their names or will you make their godparents wait?" El intoned, chuckling.  
  
Etcy grinned happily, "No, of course you may know! This beauty here's Jemima and this one here," patting the little tom who had by now curled up around Quaxo's front paws tightly, hindering all movement, "is called Tumblebrutus."  
  
They all fell silent, playing with the kittens, their thoughts elsewhere as their minds went out to remember the friends they had lost…  
  
Even though they were now connected more closely than Jenny might probably have liked in their position with Etcy's and Pounce's kittens, Quaxo and Electra hardly spoke three words with the orange tabby.  
  
May turned out to be a beautiful month, and it passed into a mild and warm June. Old Deuteronomy ceased visiting as his joints hurt him and poor Gus required constant attention - the old tom was rumoured to have finally lost all hold on reality. The Jellicle leader did, however, discourage anyone coming to see the theatre cat as he believed that the dream world he had built kept him safe from pain and that this was as it should be.  
  
Summer passed away as quietly and uneventful as spring, with couples forming and taking their vows of matehood solemnly and unobtrusively. It was Munkustrap who stood in for Deuteronomy at these occasions, Demeter at his side.  
  
Quaxo wasn't in the least surprised that Vicky and Plato followed Etcy and Pounce - in fact, he had believed they would be hard on their playmates' heels, since the white queen was the last to be bested or overtaken by anyone. It seemed that her chosen tom had proved to be more prickly than she had imagined, however.  
  
Electra did tell him, with a very mischievous twinkle in her eyes, that Plato had not taken very well to Vicky's decision of tying the knot but had opposed it with all his paws,  
"He didn't stand a chance though - you know Vic - she got to him when he least expected it. Did you see him give Admetus that suffering look? He's not exactly happy to be a mate officially now I reckon."  
  
Not long after came Alonzo's and Cassandra's turn and two days later, Admetus followed Plato into matehood, grinning madly as he stood by Exotica's side. The tribe was now in a state of anticipation - every moment they expected Munkustrap and Tugger to finally affirm what everyone knew already - that they were taken for good.  
  
Those two, however, to Quaxo's infinite amusement, showed not the least indication of making an official announcement. The black tom, being fairly curious about their relationships already - not that he had his own sorted out - hung around them more often, observing quietly, but finding out nothing new - except for the obvious realization that both of his eldest friends were deeply in love with their respective partners.  
  
It was Tugger who finally enlightened Quaxo to their plans though. Having seen the young tom prowl about a little too nosily, the former kitten idol sighed theatrically and motioned for him to come over,  
"What are you so keen on finding out there, Quax?"  
  
"Nothing…" seeing the sparkle in Tugger's eyes he thought better of it and added, "I was wondering why neither you nor Munku make it official."  
  
"Do you and El intend to do it?"  
  
That caught Quaxo off-guard, he had never truly thought of taking it that far yet… The elder tom laughed and patted his shoulder, "Don't you worry…no, I'll tell you. But mind you - no gossiping - it's only for your ears…and El's I suppose since you're not one to keep secrets. Mungo, Rumple, Munk, Demi, Bomba and I will make a show at the Ball with a triple vow of faithfulness!"  
  
The declaration did stun the young tom - as did the mention of the cockney duo as approaching a state of commitment to each other that way. Tugger shrugged,  
"Was bound to happen - but we thought that we might as well do the whole thing in style - we'll be watched by the whole tribe as it is…a little more publicity won't hurt. And then, Munku would like Old D to perform the ceremony…and the old tom's only gonna be here for the Ball."  
  
Quaxo nodded, smiling, "I'm sure that will be a lovely thing to do."  
  
"Very romantic, yeah…" Tugger gave one of his famous snorts before chuckling madly, "if you decide to keep El close you're welcome to join us, you know…"  
  
The annual Jellicle Ball approached, and when the air grew slightly cooler and the days shorter, the tribe assembled silently around the old tire, greeting their leader with a nod and a bow.  
  
They had unanimously chosen this approach once they had seen old Gus beside Deuteronomy, his paws shaking worse than ever and his eyes glassy and distant. He was mumbling to himself and now and then reached out blindly as if to touch someone in front of him. They all could guess at who the cat was he believed he was seeing…  
  
The traditional schedule was altered as they chanted their salute to the Everlasting Cat and Munkustrap got up to intone,  
"Jellicle Cats meet once a year at the Jellicle Ball where we all rejoice. And now that the Jellicle leader is here, he will make what is known as the Jellicle choice."  
  
Quaxo looked at the old tom and suddenly felt that there was a change afoot, a fundamental difference in the course of this Ball that did not only lie within the altered celebration itself, but also in the souls of each cat - in a deeply felt need for an innocence that the tribe had long missed…  
  
"The Jellicle leader will, just before dawn, through a silence you could cut with a knife, announce the successor to take his place," a hushed gasp went through the assembled cats but Old Deuteronomy continued nonplussed and with a slight smile, "…and now, in the light of the Jellicle moon I propose Asparagus for the Jellicle choice."  
  
Most nodded, their approval radiated in their eyes and at the leader's sign they raised their paws, the whole tribe as one, united in their wish for old Gus to be chosen to travel to the Heaviside Layer. The communion was stronger than any Quaxo had felt before and his heart beat increased as he felt the warmth of goodwill and friendship emanating from the group, directed at the hunched form of the theatre cat.  
  
Quaxo held Electra tightly as she leaned against him. They watched the tire rise, steam around it that glowed ethereally in the dim moonlight. It occurred to the black tom then that there had not been a Jellicle choice the year before, that the course of the their lives had subtly begun to change with this disruption.  
  
Macavity's face appeared before his mind's eye, but for once it held no edge or sarcasm, only a saddened remembrance of a tom whom Quaxo had never known and who had been as far from his reach, both in spirit and heart as was possible.  
  
The Everlasting Cat's gleaming, starry paw opened up for Gus and Deuteronomy guided him towards it. Looking up, the young tom realized that the theatre cat had stopped and wouldn't move until…a figure appeared between a single cloud that passed across the moon and the whisper of a broken voice ran above the silent group as Asparagus smiled happily and walked towards it, opening his arms, "Jelly."  
  
Quaxo didn't notice much after that, as if a veil had descended upon him and a deep sadness. He cried, for no reason he could have given, sobbing quietly in Electra's arms, his head buried against her chest.  
  
The night passed by the tribe as it remained in thought and contemplation. Deuteronomy's voice rang out to speak of the 'Moments of Happiness' and the couples drew closer to each other, Etcy's and Pounce's kittens meowing softly.  
  
A familiar scent drew Quaxo from his grief and he looked up, staring at Grizabella who stood at the edge of the yard, her figure shrouded in the shadows of the high junk piles around her. The black tom wanted to run towards her, but Electra held him back and so he sat, his eyes giving her silent encouragement as she began to sing, without being asked.  
  
Her voice was low, but every word held a pronounced meaning, heavy with the burden of a life lived alone and in pain. She spoke of her past, her beliefs, the longing for a youth that had long passed her by and left her but a shell of the queen she once was. But still, there was her defiance of her fate that kept her chin up and though her shoulders were hunched she assumed a proud stance.  
  
The fading moonlight broke into patterns on her fur and Quaxo noticed the silvery line of tears trickling down her cheek. She was singing to him and to the tribe, to each cat and no one in particular. When she had ended, she remained where she was, not asking to be welcomed, but daring them not to give her the respect of letting her stay at the edge of their lives.  
  
Suddenly, someone moved and Quaxo turned around slightly to see Jenny rise slowly, walking hesitantly towards the other queen. She stopped in the middle of the yard and held out her paw, her lips forming a silent offer of acceptance, "Grizabella."  
  
Swaying slightly, the former glamour cat went forward, reaching out with a glance at Quaxo. When their eyes met he nodded, feeling that Jenny meant her gesture the way that she had interpreted it. A shaggy grey paw was enclosed in an orange one and the two queens smiled as one.  
  
No words were spoken as the tribe rose to welcome its newest member. The black tom hugged his friend tightly and she patted his cheek fondly. Electra whispered a soft, "Welcome home!" and then Grizabella had passed by them and was being led towards the tire, to take her place amidst the group.  
  
Dawn was nearing when Munkustrap and Demeter joined paws and asked Deuteronomy to perform the ceremony. Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer, Tugger and Bombalurina joined them and their voices were clear and fresh in the night, marking a new beginning.  
  
Quaxo leant against his mate, rubbing his head against hers gently, as her arms encircled his waist, "Think we'll ever do that? Make the vow I mean."  
  
The black tom grinned, "If you stay with me for another year there's no way you can escape it."  
  
Chuckling, the dark queen moved closer, her lips brushing Quaxo's ever so slightly. Grizabella's words drifted along on the wind, a melody playing in the Jellicles' hearts,  
"A new life has begun."  
  
Finis.  



End file.
